no big deal

I have delayed starting this blog for the sole reason that I could not think of the perfect title.

Titling is so daunting. ¬†So permanent. ¬†The problem I have with titling is twofold. ¬†First, how to sum up the complexity and simplicity of my musings and intentions in just a few words–a catchy phrase but not cheap, something thoughtful, artful, memorable, easy to spell, easy to find, and not taken? The solution–choose a single word. ¬†Phrases are so limiting, restricting.

Second: What are my musings? What are my intentions?

In the creative world, most are likely familiar with the handy term, “working title.” ¬†The “working title” has always been my best friend because I have constantly struggled with knowing just what it is I am trying to say until once I have said it. ¬†In the internet world, this luxury is just not possible.

So the questions remain, what am I really? and what am I trying to convey, and why, and to whom?

The first thing you would not expect to hear in a personal introduction is age. ¬†However, allow me to quite relevantly reveal to you that I am thirty years old. ¬†It took me over half of my thirtieth year of life to discover exactly what it means to be “a woman in her 30s.” ¬†I didn’t even know that this was a thing, until I started seeing advertisements, reprints, and knock-offs of this book, which is really just a silly list. ¬†Now wait, don’t read the silly list. ¬†I have all the insight right here on what it means to be ¬†“a woman in her 30’s.” ¬†Are you ready?


 it means absolutely nothing.


When I was 28 and 29 some friends asked me on occasion what it would feel like to turn 30, and the thought did not frighten me. ¬†“It’s just a number,” I told myself. ¬†In fact, a year-and-a-half ago I was already telling¬†people that I was “basically 30” and I felt as though 29 were a wasted year. ¬†When the day came,¬†I can’t say that it went exactly as I’d imagined. ¬†I also don’t think I had any of the stereotypical reactions (whatever those are). ¬† When I turned 30, I had two simultaneous thoughts: ¬†How did this happen so fast? And I’m now 100% adult. ¬†There are no more excuses. ¬†I need to get it together.

Wait a second. ¬†Hold it right there. ¬†This is when my logical, analytical objectivity comes in: What does it mean to “have it together,” anyways?

Does “it” even exist? ¬†Or is “it” all about appearances? ¬†Do I even want that???


…and thus I maintain the opinion I held long before ever arriving at 30:

It really is no big deal.



It’s so nice to meet you. ¬†I can’t wait to start cooking together!