Recently, it's come to my attention that I lack a passionate, defined goal in life. I actually brought this to my own attention. I noticed I'm a bit flighty with what I want out of life. I want to be a writer. I want to make a difference. I want to feel normal, have a cute husband and adorable kids. I'd love to be recognized for being awesome on occasion. I want to feel like what I'm doing is something that makes others happy.
I'm going to spare you my boring unremarkable history. Instead, I'm going to talk about "South Pacific." The musical. That show is pretty great. There are some awesome songs. And then there's "Happy Talk." Which I usually tuned out of. I always found it silly and superfluous.
About 6 months ago, it was pledge month on the PBS. They showed a Great Performances production. I was watching it, and I suddenly heard the lyrics "You've got to have a dream, if you don't have a dream, how you gonna make a dream come true?"
I began to try and pinpoint what my dream is. I mean, I'm going to be 35 this year. And I honestly don't have a dream. I have a few goals. "Don't suck." "Don't get too old."
Then last weekend, I Redboxed "Tangled." And I felt a little chocked up during the part where everyone is talking about their dream.
If you'd asked me when I was in junior high, I would have told you my dream was to be a lawyer. In high school, I wanted to be Tiffany. And then after I went gothoGrunge, I wanted to be a slam poet. In college, somewhere, I stopped dreaming and started just focusing on having "goals." Which got me a degree. And a job. And where I am today. But each time I set them, they weren't lofty. They weren't powerful or dramatic. They were just "get a paycheck." "Buy a car." "Try not to look your age." "Don't disappoint people."
There's another part of the story that needs to be told, too. About a month ago, something violent and traumatic happened to my family. I almost lost two siblings. And I did loose a sense of security and complacence. That's important for later on.
So, there's been a small, quiet journey I've been on during 2011. The journey to redefine my dreams. And through them, who I want to be. I've undertaken some massive projects. I wrote two books. I volunteered to plan and run a VBS. I've introspected to discover where it is I'm blissful.
And that leads me to this blog. There are three things I love. I love writing. Even if it's just about what I did today. I love singing. Truly love If I was told tomorrow I could never sing again, I would probably cease to exist. And I love baking.
Writing makes sense, I've always had constant ADHD type thoughts and they fill my brain and must come out somehow. Writing actually relieves a pressure I sometimes feel building up. I go write something and it's like I stopped the boiler in the basement from exploding for a while.
Singing is something I'm confident i do well. About the only thing I'm 100% sure I do well on a consistent basis. So of course, I'd enjoy it.
And baking is the most amazing thing ever.
I am a very emotional person. Almost histrionic, if you were to ask my family. Right now, things are a little crazy, hectic and ridiculous. I still have random PTSD moments relating to the aforementioned trauma. And I feel like a maelstrom inside. It makes me edgy and bitchy to people. I spend my days surrounded by whining, sniping 3 and 4-year-olds. I am getting super close to a milestone birthday and I'm starting to feel like I'm going to die single and alone with lots of cats around me. All of this is cycloning inside my head where I'm already mildly dramatic and it doesn't make for fun times. But I've discovered that when I bake, when I fold and blend and cream and create something delicious, those yucky feelings abate. It's like I can use them to fuel a passion for cooking. Like I can be Tita from "Para Aqua Por Chocolate." Instead of barking at people and losing my temper, I make cupcakes. And they're good. Mostly. And I feel better when I'm done. Almost happy even.
So, I made a goal to blog about baking, mostly cupcakes. It's not incredibly lofty. Yet. But I need to start small. And it's not like I can write songs about cupcakes and sing them on the radio. So, I'll blog.
I'm going to bake on Saturdays. At least two batches. And I'm going to record it here. So that I have: a.) a place to keep a record and b.) a public accounting that my life isn't just getting up and going to work.
That maybe I'll be able to create and make people smile and enjoy doing something.
This blog isn't going to make me 22 again. It probably won't restore my idealism. It's not likely to make me feel normal, but it might make me feel like my special brand of abnormal is okay. It won't find me a husband (I'm resigned to having to order one on the internet from Lower Slombovia or something). But it might get me recognized for the random and occasional awesomeness. And people are always smiling when you give them baked goods. So I'll feel like I'm spreading a little joy. And it's a place to write. So my brain won't overload.
So that's why this blog exists. I don't know if you made it through, or if you care or any of it, but there it is. Baking Saturdays. Posts to follow. Pictures and successes and failures. Cupcakes. And maybe, through the outlets I'm going to utilize, I'll find a passion in there somewhere. A dream.
maybe my dream is to find a dream. I think I'll start there.
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