State of Jenniefromthe603

Where does a blogger even begin when she's been gone for so long (Do you feel abandoned?  Did I stir up some deep dark & twisty feeeeeelings from your childhood? Yea oopsies.  Sorry 'bout that.) and then she's nominated for best blog post in 2010?!  What is a girl to do and/or say? . . . . WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!  HOORAY!! Woot woot, fist bump, ayayayayayaayayay!!  Solo dance party!  Usmp usmp usmp. 
 
Well that’s how I’d start off; you might start off with a simple thank you very much.  Not me, I like exclamation points and fist bumps. With explosions.
 
Man oh man.  So, I disappeared.  I’m sorry.  It’s a long story that involves me being a baby, 30 birthdays and career a crisis/meltdown/ephiany. 
Here’s what I know now that the dust of 2010 has settled: 
 
I love blogging. 
Andy Cohen is a genius yummy Jewish boy toy.  I need to figure out how to become his "mazel of the week"  Big life goals here only.
I want leather furniture.
Planning a wedding is actually fun.
I love DIY anything- mostly DIY shopping and DIY blog reading. 
Being 30 doesn’t suck that hard.
 
It’s 2011 and I’ve missed you.  We have a lot to catch up on, a whole season of Real Housewives Beverly Hills went by without us chatting.  I don’t want to overload you in one post, I could…we could talk about how I fell down the stairs on NYE and hurt my knee and can’t work out in the manic way I want.  Or how I just spilled coffee down the front of my white shirt.  Or how I went to work with my shirt on backwards and had to be told by a co worker at which point I argued with her but she was actually right.  We could chat about now I’m 30.  And I have wrinkles.  OR we could chat about how awesome I am at Just Dance for the Wii.  There’s just so much.  The good news is I’m back.  I’m blogging.  I.am.back.  I hope there’s still room for me.  And no I’m not back just 'cuz of the Best of Blog contests (which I didn’t even know existed- so imagine my delight when I get Steph’s email- I nearly peed my pants).  Nope, I miss blogging and all the pressure I was feeling about being funny, the yucky “incident” involving my blog and that thing I do from 9 to 5, etc., etc. I’ve dealt with.  I’m blogging.  And I’m blogging for me. 
 
So…here it is, Obama has his State of the Union, the Republicans have Michelle Bachmann’s weird I won’t look at the right camera appearance and I have the State of Jenniefromthe603 2011!  BAM!!!
 
I had to write and give a 3 minute self reflection for my class this past week and I thought it served as a perfect SOTJft603 for me:
 
I’m a World Champion.  Not like- my mom made me a trophy out of cardboard and a paper tiara one day because I had a rough go at school- World Champion, an actual bonified- face in the newspaper, real plastic trophy, real- World Champion.  And even though now when I look back at my trophy I wonder why it’s so small and so plastic ‘cmon it’s a WORLD CHAMPION trophy. . . the fact remains, I’m a World Champion.
 
We were charged with preparing a self reflection in hopes of gaining self awareness.  For this World Champion this has been the worst assignment I’ve ever received.  Especially when I thought I was the first in the class to “perform.”  It has been kind of ironic how difficult this assignment has been for me to complete.  And not because of the reasons you may think, I fancy myself a pretty good public speaker but this assignment, this kind of assignment really makes it painfully aware to me what my biggest weakness is.  Even though I’m a World Champion. 
 
I have to be perfect.  Need to be perfect.  Can’t be anything less than perfect.  It’s all or nothing, right or wrong, black or white, if it’s not perfect it’s a failure.  In everything I do:  work, school assignments, blogging, relationships, home improvements, fitness, weight loss, cleaning, craft projects…..I have a room full of unfinished craft projects because I’m afraid that it won’t be Martha Stewart perfect and so it’s not worth finishing.  If I’m not the best it’s not worth it.  In the infamous words of Ricky Bobby, “if you’re not first-you’re last.”  At the beginning of my graduate program I argued with an instructor because I received a 97 on my first paper and not a 100.  A 97.  A 97.  That night I cried in my kitchen at the realization that a) no matter my crafty arguments he wasn’t going to increase my grade and b) I was behaving like I’d just been elected Mayor of Crazy Town. 
 
It’s not the fear of failure.  It’s the fear of the world seeing how imperfect I am.  I’ve come to understand that I derive my self esteem externally- through my achievements- so appearances mean everything.  Others’ opinions are important- strike that- others’ opinions are UBER importante.  And yes, I know my outsides don’t match my insides, I’m not perfect but it’s absolutely necessary that no one else know my ugly truth. 
 
But here I am.  Just turned 30.  Getting married in May and 3 classes away from a Masters Degree.  The older I get and with lots of psycho therapy because let’s give credit where credit is due- I’m coming to learn that it’s the process of doing, the middle where I actually learn the most.  Buying a house, my relationship, this program, raising two dogs, it’s the journey that gets me off.  Not the 100 on the paper.  And, the middle is always messy and imperfect.  So when you hear me whispering to myself “it’s the journey and not the destination” have mercy on me after all I am a World Champion.
 
*seeyoulaterbyebyeciao*