Blog-doration

Jennifer McNary was the most popular girl in my 5th grade class.

I admired her. I adored her. I wanted to BE her.

Jennifer was just shy enough -- not painfully introverted nor obnoxiously extroverted. I closely observed -- and often tried to emulate -- Jennifer's way of demurely tilting her head ever-so-slightly to the left and smiling sweetly, looking sincerely and directly at you as she caressed the bottom button of her perfectly white cardigan sweater. That's how Jennifer interacted with everyone. And everyone with whom Jennifer interacted loved her. She was, to this slightly awkward freckled, red-headed teeny-bopper, perfection.

I admired her. I adored her. I wanted to BE her.

Ree, of Confessions of a Poineer Woman is the Jennifer McNary of the blogging world. Her blog is amazing -- addictive, informative, hilarious, and just downright fun. She can write about anything or nothing, and either way, it's perfection.

I admire her. I adore her. I want to BE her.

No wait -- I don't want to BE her!

As much as I love reading about her life on a cattle ranch in the middle of nowhere, as much as I LOVE reading her ongoing missive (called Black Heels to Tractor Wheels) about how she met and married her studly hubbly, "Marlboro Man," as much as I adore her photography and Photoshop lessons, and as much as I'm in awe over her Food Channel-quality posts on how to cook a huge variety of delicious recipes, I don't actually want to BE her.

I'm OK (now that I'm 50 and no longer in 5th grade) with simply admiring Pioneer Woman from afar. I'm really OK with that. I'm a big girl now, I'm my own person, and I know that my blog is special in its own way. And really, if Pioneer Woman jumped off a bridge, I'd... I'd...

I'll bet there ARE no bridges on her ranch.