No, I didn’t meet Ricky Schroeder. And no, I wasn’t gifted with tickets to see James Taylor perform, during which he dedicated most of the songs in his wondrous discography to me. (And brought me on stage to duet with him for, oh, all of those songs.)
This particular sheer awesomeness comes from the fact that I:
1) wrote a short essay about a certain show I loved way back in the day and tied it in with the madness and magnificence of adolescent crushes,
2) submitted it,
[deafening, joyous scream]
It’s featured here on one of my favorite sites, HelloGiggles.
For those of you who know me, who support my writing, who support this blog and my other ones (this one and a brand new one over here!): you get it, don’t you? The sheer awesomeness of it all? That, as a writer, to see my work in a published form is pretty amazing? That when I saw my piece on HelloGiggles yesterday I wanted to do the cartwheel I never learned how to do in 6th grade gym class? That I haven’t stopped smiling? Yep. You get it. (And thanks for the enduring support. The few eyes that drift over to this tiny corner of the universe are all appreciated, although some of you don’t leave comments. Baby steps, I know.)