The existence of this brand-spankin’-new blog may be proof that I am not trapped in the year 2003. It has been eight long and action-packed years (to the month) since I started my now defunct Xanga.
It seems there must be something, for me, about the month of October, and I think I know what it is. There are certain aspects of nature that I find inspiring: Trees. Leaves. Colors. Wind. October has all of these in abundance. So, with all this inspiration blowing around and falling gracefully to the ground, it seems I need a creative outlet.
Twice has this overwhelming need to create manifested itself in the form of a new blog. At other times, it has been a renewed interest in photography or baking. Sometimes I pick up a long-abandoned project, like the epic fantasy that I’ve been tag-team writing off and on with an old friend for years now.
Last time I started a blog, it was new and exciting. I was young and easily intrigued, so I could write about practically anything, including cadences and pop tabs. I look back on this youthful version of myself with something like envy at times. I had so much energy, and I never ran out of things to say. On the rare occasion that I did lack inspiration, I would make my own.
This is my attempt to reclaim some of that innovation and audacity. Since I’m RestlessJackie, I can tell you that these writings will by no means adhere to a singular theme. As my mind wanders, so also do my tapping fingertips.
Sometimes I’ll write about baking (particularly muffins), and sometimes I’ll post photos from an impromptu photo shoot. Sometimes I will brag about great deals I get on my newly established couponing adventures, and other times I may transcribe an amusing phone call I field in the oh-so-exciting world of sheet music customer service. Hopefully I will recount my travels, if traveling is something I ever get to do again with any regularity.
So this may not turn into anything more exciting that my last blog was. But in a world that often feels monotonous and dreary, at least this makes things feel fresh. I may not be living the dream right now, but at least I can still dream the dream.