it’s just a blog

There’s a woman in the commercial, typing wildly, at a desk. She is clearly an author.  Pages of words line her screen and her workspace, sheets of crunched up paper fall from her trashcan.

“What kind of job do you think she has?” my friend asks her 5-year-old. The young one is learning about jobs, at school.

She sighs in mock-grownup-exasperation. “Mom. I already know what she is.”

“A firefighter?” I joke.
“A guitarist?” Her mom joins in.

“No,” the little one says, turning to finish her lego structure. “She’s a dinosaur. Just like Rara.”


“You don’t know me,” he says, as soon as I answer the phone, “but you know my girlfriend. My future wife. My hopefully-future wife. To be totally honest, she knows you. I don’t know how much you remember about your readers, but she remembers everything about you. She reads you every day, and tomorrow, I’m going to ask her to marry me.”

I know he isn’t done talking, but I’m excited and I interrupt. How are you going to do it? Are you taking Dogg with you, she’ll want him there. Are you going to let her post a picture of you finally?

He laughs and tells me to slow down. “I guess you know your readers pretty well. Yes, we’re bringing Dogg. I’ve designed a scavenger hunt and I would like to hide a clue in your blog. I normally wouldn’t ask but the way she talks about you, I feel like this is something you might be willing to do…”

His last sentence is barely heard because I’m jumping up and down and squeaking.
I get to be part of this.

“I hope she’s even half as enthusiastic.” He says.

I hear his smile, I feel his joy.   I start laughing with bubbling happiness, and after a minute, he joins in.  Tonight, I’ll hide a jpg in a post I never intended to write.

Tomorrow, he’ll be engaged.


“I brought you this mirror,” I tell her, “and one of Dave’s pieces. The one he wanted to send you before. Happy birthday.”

Our eyes tear up but neither of us cry. We just laugh and hug and compliment each other, excited to be meeting after all this time.

My shoulder bumps the man next to me. The one who’s wife I met once before going to prison, the one who’s oldest son wrote me while I was inside. I shift in my seat and almost knock over my coke.

He protectively moves it back to the center of the table, as she reaches out to lay her hand on my arm.

The waiter pauses as he passes us, absorbing our physical contact and warmth. I can imagine him wondering how the tall porcelain-skinned beauty and the whisky-drinking black man, and the geeky-looking Indian girl all connect.

It’s a long story, one that starts with www…


“Hey,” I type into my mom’s phone. I’m slow, as I change out of my prison clothes at a taco shop, while texting for the first time in over a year. “It’s Rara. I’m free.”

I can’t see his face, and despite the dozens of emails and comments and letters, I’ve only met him twice– but I still know he’s smiling, and that he’ll let the rest of the family know.

My family, my kin.
My blog kin.
My blokin.

I’m home.


“It’s just a blog,” a new friend says, and I nod in reply.

It’s just a blog…

and that may be the most extraordinary thing about it.





  1. A blog, is definitely an extraordinary thing indeed. The friendships, the adventures, the blog parties. I think that is so cool your blog was used for a scavenger hunt clue for an engagement. So brilliant. Thank you for sharing your memories with us! ❤

    Liked by 3 people

  2. How exciting! I’ve never seen a blog used in this way before but this is super cool! I hope everything turns out well for the couple. 🙂 A blog is a truly miraculous thing to have. I’m so glad to have on like you!

    Liked by 2 people

      1. I’m not exaggerating in the slightest when I say that starting my blog is the best life choice I’ve made to date. ❤️

        Liked by 1 person

  3. love the new decor BTW.

    I spoke to someone today for the first time and I wanted to tell her about myself. The first sentence I uttered ” I am a blogger.” To the uninitiated, it is meaningless. But for some of us lucky souls, it is about words,,,,,, and beyond words ☻☻☻

    Liked by 3 people

    1. You’re welcome to anything here, anytime. This blog has a long’running policy of “Yes”! If you’d like though, I could email you the image, or you can try right mouse clicking on it from the homepage. ♡ I can’t wait to see the sparkly words you add to the idea. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Youre geautiful!! ❤️❤️❤️ You know… I couldnt really read for the past two years. And now with cheerpeppers im reading for hours on straight. I hadnt dropped by here in ages neither.

    Blogs are not just blogs. They are souls in binary. Little snapshots of our hearts. And so much more. Right now blogs mean breathing to me. To me they are life ❤️

    Liked by 2 people

  5. My heart is doing things it shouldn’t and my eyes are sweating.

    Which is a really defensive way of saying I’m trying not to cry. ❤ I remember when I heard you were released. I screamed. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Feeling is exactly what hearts and eyeballs and dinosaurs and foxes and mice are ‘pposed to do. Sometimes that means writing, sometimes it means crying. Life, eh. 🙂

      Love you, E. ♡♡♡

      Liked by 1 person

  6. I love this! Just a blog. Ha! Some people have NO idea! lol

    This cracked me up – “It’s a long story, one that starts with www…” That’s how I met my husband, too! 😀

    *hugs* ❤

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Ha! 🙂 It made me cringe a little, notgonnalie. But I realized as well that he couldn’t possibly know– there’s a million stories that live here, most of which I have yet to tell. 🙂

      Thanks for reading, Sreejit. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  7. Love this, Ra. Sorry I’ve been so absent lately – hope you’re well.
    Can you add me to the NanoPoblano blog roll? I’d love to be a part of this, hopefully I can manage a post a day. xx

    Liked by 1 person

  8. I honestly love the connections that are made through putting our souls out into the http://www... It’s not something I’ve ever been able to explain properly, but I know they’re real connections; some comments used to really hit me in the heart on my old blog, and I hope that I’ll someday find that on my new one. Finding other souls who vibrate to a similar frequency is such a treasure. You have made such an awesome thing here. Sending lots and lots of love – and I’ve learnt the meaning behind ‘blokin’ now…

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Yes, finding our tribes is really when everything starts to unfold like magic. Until then, it is good to remember that we share this wider village too. I hope you feel at home here, Sarah. You are loved!

      Liked by 1 person

  9. You have a way with words that always make me smile. It feels so gentle and wise. For me, it’s a strange thing but I actually feel more “at home” with people I consider my friends on the internet, be it here on WordPress or on another chat platform I frequent.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Shreeeeeeee, you’re back and it still makes me so happy to see you around and to know that when I click that link I will be taken to your world, yay! Thank you for being part of my home. ❤

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Aw, thank you, Suzanne. One day I might compile a book of just old posts, for off-computer reading. If I ever figure out a way to pick the favorites out. 🙂


  10. Reblogged this on Suz's Place and commented:
    I just can’t help myself, have to share yet another of my wonderful friend Ra’s blogs…….she’s just that special……Her writing, oh, how it grabs you and takes you along on her wonderful journeys! Like I’ve said before, I sit in awe, and pray that I can learn and grow from reading her blogs and being lucky enough to be granted a space in her circle,, ……….that some of her magic will land on me………

    Liked by 1 person

  11. I really love your writing. I know I have told you this before, but I really do. Frightfully wondrous is the apt description.


  12. It’s just a blog and it’s so much more too. That’s what makes it amazing. It’s a place where frightfully wondrous things happen, and that’s because of the love you show to everyone.

    Love you, Ra. Xxx



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