Forty-Seven Days

We looked at one another, then looked at the museum security guard and through a fit of giggles shouted “Fonzie’s jacket is downstairs!  Go for the glory!!”  causing me to laugh so hard that I peed on myself...and a little on my friend Jamie Himaya because I was sitting in her lap.



Believe it or not, that very long sentence took me  forty-seven days to write.  Forty-seven days ago I decided to join the millions of bloggers out there and write my own blog.  “No biggie!” I thought.  “This will be fun!” I thought.  “I’m a writer!”  I thought.  “This blog entry will make us millionaires!” I thought.  Forty-seven days, people.  FORTY-SEVEN DAYS!  Do you know how hard it is to come up with the first sentence of your first blog?  I must have typed and deleted at least three million first sentences, and they all were junk.  So after forty-seven days of coming up with nothing,  I decided to start my first blog entry with an ending of a story instead of a first sentence of a story because I can’t handle the pressure of a first sentence, y’all.  

The first sentence of my first blog...that’s a big deal!!  And if someone actually reads this (thanks, mom!)  then that means it’s my first sentence as a writer.  A writer’s first sentence. Oh the pressure!  Everyone knows a first sentence has the potential to turn a writer into a literary icon, right?  “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…” Charles Dickens- Tale of Two Cities.  “It was a pleasure to burn…” Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451.  

I don’t believe there has ever been a time when I have felt more pressure to succeed...except for perhaps the time I was dared to drink Lori Gore’s 7 year old frozen breast milk, but that’s a blog for another day.  

 (sidenote: 7 year old frozen breast milk oddly enough tastes just like 2% milk)!  

                                                                                             Lori Gore (breast milk not pictured)

                                                                                             Lori Gore (breast milk not pictured)

The first sentence is TOO.  MUCH.  PRESSURE. I mean, seriously...“It was a queer, sultry summer, the summer they electrocuted the Rosenbergs, and I didn’t know what I was doing in New York.” Sylvia Plath- The Bell Jar  “It was a bright cold day in April and the clocks were striking thirteen” George Orwell- 1984.  

 Dickens.  Bradbury.  Plath.  Orwell.  See???  SEE!!!!  See what I mean!!!  Brilliant first sentences!!  Iconic literary geniuses!!

 And then there’s me....

 “I peed on my friend Jamie” Leigh Chamberlain- First Blog Entry.


                                           Jamie and me when I looked like a truck driver and she looked like a Fraggle Rock.

                                           Jamie and me when I looked like a truck driver and she looked like a Fraggle Rock.

I’m no Dickens, but this is my awkward, ridiculous journey.  A journey that sometimes includes me accidentally peeing on my friend.  A journey that sometimes includes me drinking seven-year-old frozen breast milk.  It’s a  journey full of mistakes, mishaps, and miracles.  Come join me on this journey.

 Saving Seven,


Forty seven days saving saven.jpg