I want to say THANK YOU (oh, yes, it’s worth yelling) to three women in particular: Kim Moldofsky, Alli Worthington, and Barbara Jones. When I posted the link to my sad and frustrating day, Kim chatted with me on Twitter about it. I felt better, knowing that she had dealt with similar issues and had worked through it. Then 20 minutes later the phone rang and it was my friend, Alli. Kim had told Alli about my post. Alli’s first words were, “Honey, how can we get you to Blissdom?” And we talked. I cried a little. And I’m going to Blissdom. Thanks to Kim, Alli, and Barbara, I’m going to Blissdom!

That’s a big deal; let me tell you why. Writing the book has been one of the best experiences of my life, but it was also one of the most draining. I was lucky to be able to do it with my very good friend Shannon, but it was stressful even so. That project left me burned out and unsure of whether I wanted to continue being online or not. I went back and forth and talked it to death with my friends. And I decided to stop for a while. But even that was stressful. I worried. And different life stuff happened and I worried more. Then Alli called and said in her soothing voice, “Honey, how can we get you to Blissdom?” And I melted. Because what I was missing were my online connections and being part of something bigger than myself.

I talked with my husband and we agreed that I need the trip to Blissdom. I need it to connect with my friends, to work on some of the ideas I’ve been percolating, and yes, to see Harry Connick, Jr. Because if Harry can’t cure what ails ya, then nothin’ can.

I went to bed last night thinking of ways to grow. I went to bed with a sense of purpose I’ve been lacking for longer than I care to remember.

I woke up this morning with a need to move forward. Today I

• told Alli and Barbara I’d see them in Nashville.
• worked all morning at my daughter’s school being as useful as I could be.
• decided to celebrate my grandpa’s life by remembering his laugh, the way he would say ‘tall instead of at all, and how his voice sounded when he was happy.
• contacted another bloggy friend to propose a business partnership of sorts.
• pitched in to help with some Blissdom projects.

It felt so good to be productive again, to be adding to others instead of taking away and being negative. When I called Shannon today, she said, “It’s so good to hear your voice happy again.” And I owe that to you. Thank you to everyone for being there for me. Thank you particularly to Kim, Alli, and Barbara. I don’t know if I can really tell you how much appreciate you. But I do. Thanks. I’ll see you in Nashville!

(If you’re coming to Blissdom, I’m begging you to come talk to me. I want to see you, meet you, hang out with you. And I’m not one to say it if I don’t mean it.)

• lost my grandpa. The upside is that my family was able to spend some good time with him and the rest of the extended family over winter break. I was able to witness one of his better days, but I was also in the doctor’s office when the doctor told him the chemo wasn’t helping and they were going to stop all treatments and focus on making him comfortable. He held on for two more weeks. I will miss him. A lot.
• saw one of my ideas realized, but not by me. Over the past year, I’ve had so many ideas, but wasn’t able to implement them because I was focused on writing the book (which, by the way, will be out February 22). I thought, “I’ll do that in January.” But someone beat me to it and I’m really irritated with myself.
• got my MacBook Pro back from the shop (it needed a new logic board), but it didn’t recognize the internet connection. (Update: this, at least, is fixed.)
• found out my favorite performer of all time, Harry Connick, Jr. will be at Blissdom. I was supposed to host a Wisdom Workshop at Blissdom this year, but realized I was completely burned out and needed a break. I told Alli I needed to skip this year. And now I’m missing the one guy I’d move heaven and earth to see in concert and meet. Are you kidding me? I actually almost threw up when I found out. You don’t want to know how close it was. It sounds silly, but this put me over the edge.

So, yeah, I say 2010 can #suckit, but I know that the rest of the year is up to me. I just hope I can find my mojo sooner rather than later. I didn’t have control over some of those things (or any of the other things I’ve dealt with over the past two months–trust me, this is just the stuff that happened today; there is so much more piling up), but if I let it get me down, I may not get up. I can cry or I can laugh. And I’ve already done the former.

Dear 2010, prepare to have your ass kicked. You’ve been warned.

One of those issues is OCD. I have me a serious case of the obsessive compulsive disorder.

When I start something and enjoy it, I have to immerse myself in it completely and find every part of it and make it part of me. Case in point: Trueblood.

In June I was looking for something to watch on Netflix. I’d heard a bit of buzz about the HBO series Trueblood and figured what the heck? I received the first three DVDs the next day. I watched the first episode, laughed hysterically, then thought, “No. I cannot allow myself to be sucked into this madness! It is embarrassing to even admit that I like this.”

It’s campy. There’s a lot of gratuitous sex. (Hey, I’m not prudish in any way, but really, Season 1 of Trueblood has more sex than I’ve seen in TV or my own life in two years. Just sayin’.) But even the sex is funny (one character is known for his sexual prowess and routinely checks himself out in the mirror during the deed). And, honestly, I could not look away. I became absorbed with these characters and watched the full season in short order.

When I told people I what I was doing and how absorbed I was, I laughed uncomfortably and uncontrollably. I turned bright red from my ears to my toes. My embarrassment at not being able to stop was utter and complete.

Trueblood is based on the Sookie Stackhouse books by Charlaine Harris. Once I’d finished watching the series, the next logical step was to buy the first book, Dead Until Dark, just to see how it compared to the DVDs. I read it in seven hours. I returned to Borders every day (sometimes twice a day) for a week buying one book at a time, lying to myself that if I only bought one at a time, I was pacing myself and it wasn’t the OCD talking.

Then Amazon.com sent me an e-mail that Trueblood, Season 1 was on sale for $30. I bought it. I’ve watched it more than five times, thankyouverymuch.

I have every Sookie Stackhouse novel. I’m in the process of re-reading them all (I’m on book four again), thankyouverymuch.

Trueblood, Season 2 is in full swing, but I hadn’t watched it. I had reigned in my obsession. My issue. My addiction. Mostly because I didn’t have HBO and I couldn’t find any downloadable episodes online (and don’t think I didn’t spend several hours trying to find them, illegal though it may be). (What I did find, though, is that Vampire Bill & Sookie are dating in real life. Which makes me happy. Which also goes to show just how far I’ve gone into the deep. Comic-Con, here I come!)

I bought HBO Friday. I watched seven episodes (one hour each) in one day (mostly after 9:00p; yes it was a long night).

My name is Melanie. I’m a Trueblood and Sookie Stackhouse addict. It’s my dirtiest, guiltiest pleasure.

I found this draft in my folder. It explains a dinner I had last spring with some old friends.

Wednesday night I ventured out of my comfort zone. My comfort zone is basically this:

Uh, anything in this general area right in here. Anything below the stereo and on this side of the bicentennial glasses. Anything between the ashtrays and the thimble. Anything in this three inches right in here in this area. That includes the Chiclets, but not the erasers.

Just those three inches. Not much more than that. So when I received a call from an old college friend, a sorority sister of mine no less, and was invited to a dinner for another sorority sister who is moving away, I agreed to go but I broke out in hives as I said yes.

First, let’s get this part out of the way: Yes, I was in a sorority in college. I know it’s hard to believe. I got that a lot in college too. I’m not sure the house or I knew what we were in for. However, in the years I was there I had a lot of laughs and met some fantastic women.

Second, it has been about 15 years since I saw most of these women. If y’all think I’m surly now, you should have known me back then, pre-meds. Oh my word. I was downright bitchy and self-absorbed. I was moody and jealous. In short, I was not a happy person.

Can you even imagine being asked to attend a gathering of people who don’t know you now and only have the “old” you in their heads? I’m not that person any more and I really wanted to show that I’ve changed and grown. I’m happy now. I relish other people’s good fortune. I love to laugh.

That’s the main reason I accepted the invitation to dinner. I wanted to show that I have come a long way. That I’m still good and not completely spoiled. That I can still laugh. That I won’t ruin a gathering a friends and I can contribute to it in a positive way.

Our dinner was wonderful. I met with my dorm roommate from college and her sister (who was my Big in the house), my roommate from the house, and several other ladies that I used to hang out with. We laughed freely and continuously. J and L (the sisters) are two of the funniest people I’ve ever met and they did not disappoint. They could seriously take their act on the road and make a killing.

I found out what everyone was doing now and saw pictures of their beautiful children. I learned that many people have changed in big and small ways. I also realized people accept me for who I am no matter who it is right then. These ladies are open to change and will always see the best.

Thank you, ladies.