Tuesday, December 2, 2014

1000. Dolphin in a Wheelchair and Other Disturbing Things

There are some phrases you never hear uttered, such as, “That chocolate was disgusting,” “I would totally vote for Nixon if he were alive,” and “Hooker with morals.” 

No one says these things, because they are unacceptable to say.  They are lies.  We all know there is no such thing as “disgusting” chocolate.  Heck, even stale and melty M and M’s are better than no M and M’s. 

Another thing you never hear about is when someone who used to love to write suddenly (or maybe not so suddenly) just stops.  STOPS.



What?  Did Hemingway stop writing? Did Shakespeare stop writing?  Did John Grisham one day just stop writing??

No, of course not.  They had something to say, and an audience who wanted to hear it. 

As a blogger and eventually book writer, I also had something to say.  More than something.  I had a LOT to say. 

But guess what?  After 1000 posts (that’s right, count ‘em), I think I have said it all.  And not only that, I am a little bit sick of hearing my own voice.  So, Blog, I am divorcing you.    

It’s been a fun ride.  I remember when I started and had zero followers.  And then two.  And then, unbelievably, 10.  Then somehow, 100.  And now, over 600!  In just five years. 

For someone who considers herself shy in real life, this is a huge accomplishment for me.  People wanted to read what I wrote! 

Somehow, I cobbled it into a book.  And then with help from a fellow blogger, we made a second book.  The insecure me I was when I was 11 might not believe that.  But it’s true. 

I thank you, dear readers, for reading what I wrote, and for commenting.  (I was a bit obsessive, sometimes checking my comments every 15 minutes, sometimes less).  I thank you for making me feel like what I wrote mattered.  And for taking the time to come back and read just one more essay, one more paragraph, one more story.  I was writing for you.

But lately, the busy-ness of life intrudes.  The laundry.  The job.  The carpool.  There are never enough unoccupied minutes to build a pyramid of words.  Discarded words lay littered across the floor of my study, mocking me (“MOV, you’ll wish you had us back!  Mark my, uh… words!”).      

Now I must bid you and this lovely blog adieu.  It pains me, because I know as soon as I sign off, Muse will return with buckets full of ideas for me (“Muse, honestly, where have you been for six months?!”). 

I never thought I would utter this phrase:  Goodbye, Blog. 


  1. ahhhh

    Maybe you just need to reinvent yourself. I turned my blog from writing, to just my photography...

    just saying

  2. Just think, your writing talent will always be there when you need and want it.

  3. One last acronym extrapolation: Muse's Original Villain. How dare you! Actually, my sister just used one of your forbidden phrases the other day. She had chocolate she hated. Absolutely hated! I forget the hilarious name she gave it. Maybe I'll have her start a blog so expressions like that can be preserved.

    Because *sniff* there's one less awesome writer working today.

    1. Ohhhh... You are gonna make me cry!! Tony, thanks for all your wonderful comments! I will miss you lots. Julie

  4. Wanted to know about the house redo, oh well. May the force be with you.

    1. Give me your email Nola and I will tell u all about it. Julie

  5. I've truly enjoyed reading your blog. It's smart, witty, introspective, and most of all, always rings true. Thank you for sharing your adventures and best of luck with your next one!

  6. Thank you. That means a lot. Your comment made my day!

  7. Sheesh! For some reason I just saw this...not sure if you still check the comments...but nothing's shut down and your little space of the interwebs will still be here when your words need it!

  8. Wahhh, no, come back, keep writing. We need funny.


When you write a comment, it makes me feel like I won the lottery or at the very least like I ate an ice-cream sundae. (This has nothing to do with the fact that I did just eat an ice-cream sundae.)