Well apparently I’ve been doing this blog thing for three years now.

This is my 101th post.

Oh joy.


To commemorate the event, I re-read some of my old posts.

Does that sound narcissistic?

Perhaps it is. WELL, too bad.

The posts that I typically re-read are the ones about my surgery. I like the ones that are evidence of what I have gone through. Like the pain is evidence of having lived. I guess that’s rather depressing…But, also, the misery…makes me think of how things have changed and realities I never thought possible while I was in the midst of my greatest suffering, have come to pass.

Like…being able to sleep and dream happy dreams, and not awake in dread of the future. Like, graduating college. Actually seeing my friends.

So…living in the past. I like to read these posts to remind me of how happy I am to not be living in it. Things get better.

It’s something I have to tell myself.

Sure, I started this blog carefree and happily traveling through Europe. Then I had surgery and suffered more than I had suffered before. Certainly more than that day I was eating chocolate gelato just outside the Vatican…. And I never would have expected to spend my senior year of college in a neck brace. But…experiencing such things kind of changes you. Possibly in a good way. Sometimes it can be bad. It can make you more afraid of pain and suffering, and make you want comfort and ease and just want a break…But it can also strengthen you. To help you not worry about the little stuff. It can help force you to take a break. Can help force you to sit down and write a ukulele song, because you can’t do anything else, and there isn’t really anything else worth doing, and sometimes you just gotta spend time with the talents God gave you and appreciate being alive.

…Anyway, I might have written better stuff at some point, and I might just be stuck on the whole, “deep and depressing, but meaningful” post thing, but here are two posts that I really liked for the “deep and depressing, but meaningful reason”, maybe you want to read them for the sixtieth, or first, time:

The Wasps, and Because Screaming Into My Pillow Is Not Enough




About writingcatherine

This started as a documentation of my adventures in Europe...but hey, life's an adventure in itself.
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