A few months ago, my life caught on fire and wasn’t able to “stop, drop, and roll” in time to save itself. Everything burned to the ground: romantic relationship, career, family, foodie friendships, and even the ex-relationship*.

Then came the stillness. I sat amid the ashes of a life that took 28 years to build only to swirl my fingers in the ashen grey snowflakes of complications and repercussions. Well, admittedly, I also, at times, viciously kicked up those ashes and tried unsuccessfully to rekindle another fire to rid myself of them. Only desperation could drive a person to light on fire things that are burnt beyond the point of no return.

And from the ashes, I decided to resurrect the life that I fiercely wanted but vehemently denied myself. Why did I tend and extinguish the fires of others but not quench my own? I missed being engaged in my charitable groups, connecting resources, meeting new people, and eating adventurously. I couldn’t remember the last time I saw an opera, discussed a book, or saw a bit more of the world.

Most of all, I missed writing this blog. If you read my Introduction, you’ll see it’s a hodgepodge mix of whatever the hell I am thinking about. Will I still write about random thoughts to contribute to my “My Big Book of Shit You Should Know”, relationships, food, etiquette, and financial advice? Yes. But, now you’ll read it from someone who was reborn with a battle scar. You’ll glean advice from a seasoned emo, laugh at my naivete, and, hopefully, resurrect your life.

Because it’s true: a phoenix rises from ashes, not fire.

- TheJackieO

*Ex-fiance did what I predicted which is to date a classless “model” of his same ethnicity who’ll probably provide the 10 kids who wont go to college that I was reluctant to have. I wouldn’t have cared except she befriended me for awhile and that’s the most uncouth bitchiest thing a “girl” (if I release her name, you’d see she barely passes) could do to a proper lady (that’s me, inside joke will be explained another time).