<h4><span style="color: #008000;"> </span></h4>
<h4><span style="color: #008000;">Welcome to my existential crisis.</span></h4>
<span style="color: #000000;">Recently, I fell into the mother of all ruts.  In an attempt to hoist myself out of this Funk, I am on a mission (and I do choose to accept it) to conquer this mother by trying one new/inspiring/interesting/uplifting/provocative/or creativity-injected thing each day for 365 days.  I will then blah, blah, blog about my experiences.  </span>

<span style="color: #000000;">Some might call this insanity.  </span><span style="color: #000000;">I call it salvation.  </span>
<blockquote><span style="color: #000000;"><span style="color: #993300;"><strong>"Do one thing each day that scares you."</strong></span></span>

<span style="color: #000000;"><strong>  <span style="color: #993300;">                                                         -- Eleanor Roosevelt</span></strong></span></blockquote>
<span style="color: #000000;">I would love to, Ms. Roosevelt, but with all due respect, I don't necessarily want to be scared every day.  That sounds to me like high blood pressure waiting to happen.  </span>

<span style="color: #000000;">But I really dig your point, Eleanor.  Instead, may I take a healthy dose of artistic license and change this to...</span>
<blockquote><span style="color: #993300;"><strong>"Do one thing each day that scintillates my soul."</strong></span>

<span style="color: #993300;"><strong>                                                           -- Late Bloomer</strong></span></blockquote>
<h4><span style="color: #008000;"> </span></h4>
<h4><span style="color: #008000;">What Brought on 'Da Funk </span></h4>
<span style="color: #000000;">Last year I celebrated my 40th birthday and promptly freaked out like every other American woman who turns 40.  How very cliché of me.  </span>

<span style="color: #000000;">Mid-life crises lead people to crazy and outrageous acts such as buying an expensive sports car, cheating on a significant other, or packing up one's life to move across across the country.  </span>

<span style="color: #000000;">I started a blog.  </span>

<span style="color: #000000;">Granted, this was neither particularly outrageous nor crazy, but nevertheless indicative of the 40 year-old undercurrent bubbling, "What is next?" and "Where has all the time gone?" and "I need some sort of change or I will surely lose my sanity!"</span>

<span style="color: #000000;">I turned 40, and I suddenly felt like the hourglass of time was half empty.  </span>

<span style="color: #000000;">Of course, when I flipped both the hourglass and my perspective upside down, I declared that the hourglass was half full.  </span>

<span style="color: #000000;">This reminded me of the quintessential Late Bloomer.  Late Bloomers don't acknowledge societal timelines in life.  They bloom whenever the hell they're good and ready.  They focus on the sand in the hour glass, not the empty space.  </span>

<span style="color: #000000;">I have always felt that the Late Bloomer seed was planted in my childhood and has been sprouting ever since.  This would be the focus of my blog:  musings and ramblings of a Late Bloomer.  You can see my embarrassing first attempt at a blog at <a href="http://www.latebloomerdiary.blogspot.com">www.latebloomerdiary.blogspot.com</a>.  </span>

And then...

Life got in the way.

<span style="color: #000000;">Big time. </span>

<span style="color: #000000;">I will spare you the details, but to give you an idea, "Life Got in the Way" involved: Internet Dating Hell, swine flu (yes, I survived), run of the mill job stress, insomnia, an unrequited mongo crush, and a very sick little doggie. </span>

<span style="color: #000000;">Life Got in the Way evolved into Life is Downright Cruel when, after doing everythng in my power to help Woofie, my constant companion of nearly 14 years, I finally had to say goodbye.  </span>

<span style="color: #000000;">Every animal lover knows how saying goodbye shatters your heart and soul.  </span>

<span style="color: #000000;">And so I fell into a Funk.  Life seemed like one buzz kill after another.  The Late Bloomer seed may have still been there, but my petals wilted.  Needless to say, my blog withered away as well.  </span>

<span style="color: #000000;">The Funk pushed me into the abyss of the aforementioned mother of all ruts.   I was on auto-pilot cruising at same old, same old altitude.  </span>

<span style="color: #000000;">Then one night -- on facebook of all places -- I came across an old Fast Company article that a friend had posted.  The article highlighted a few Late Bloomers with a "it's never too late" attitude.  As I became engrossed in the article, I felt as though a little ray of sunshine pierced through the thundercloud.  </span>

<span style="color: #000000;">Who knows how these things happen upon us, but at that very moment, I was compelled to watch <a href="http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/elizabeth_gilbert_on_genius.html" target="_blank"><strong>Elizabeth Gilbert's TED talk</strong></a>.  I had only been been meaning to view this since she mentioned it...oh...6 months prior at her book signing.  </span>

<span style="color: #000000;"> </span>

<span style="color: #000000;"> </span>

<span style="color: #000000;"> </span>
<h4><span style="color: #008000;">Funk Begone!  </span></h4>
<span style="color: #008000;"> </span>