Blog-A-Pocalypse

The first thing I would like to do this evening is send PKM the hugest unlecherous hug from me for drawing my name for her fabric gift certificate! I could not have been more surprised or pleased! So many delicious treasures have made their way to me from Pam. Pam is like the best tree ripened sweet red summer cherries that come to you with the morning dew still on them and just when you think you can't stand so much sweetness she blurts out something tangy-fresh like "Fuck them all!!!".

I heard today that one of my favorite bloggers is going to take a little break from blogging for the rest of the summer. Then I read another blog I love and heard grumblings about blogging and how perhaps she'll drift away from it too. I have seen other blogs I love shut down and I am beginning to think that perhaps this is part of an occupational condition. Blog Fatigue. Do you feel it? Are you about to let your blog fade away? Some common complaints about the blogging world right now is how commercial it's gotten. Ads everywhere and everyone selling something. There's also the same dynamics present socially that plagued some of us in grade school: the popular girls club and how we'll never belong to it...who wants to relive that?

I admit that I feel a little betrayed every time a favorite blog rolls up and blows away. I invest something of myself into my favorite ones and so when they fade into obscurity it's like a part of me is gone with it. Was it me? Am I the reason blogs are disappearing? Did I look too long or ask too many personal questions? At the same time I understand. I really do.

I posted my 7ooth post today. I have been blogging just over two years. What have I gotten from the experience? Well, I certainly didn't make much money in spite of my ads. I haven't managed to keep myself at home. Nor have I become famous and beloved by all. I am not sought after, courted, included in the inner circles of the elite, and I still post way more often than is considered cool. Still, what I've gotten from blogging is something I can't get from my real life community alone. I love my friends in "real life" but they can't give me all that I need. Having this blog has allowed me to connect with people who share a lot of specific things in common with me. It makes it easy to find the people you share a spirit with.

I have, for twenty eight years (with very few breaks), written every day. In secret journals. In serious notebooks. On my old cranky typewriter. On soup labels and on stationary. And on my computer. I write. Beneath all else in life that I do (and I do a lot!) I am first of all a writer. Maybe I'm a shitty one, maybe I'm obscure, scary, funny, bland, erratic...you can describe me in any way you think fits but it won't change the fact that writing is what I do nearly every single day of my life. Keeping a public blog has forced my writing to improve. So if you think my writing here is shitty, you should see what it was like two years ago!!! Writing publicly has given me guidance and consistency.

Writing here allows me to say what I need to and know that there's a good chance that someone else out there who happens to read my blog needs to feel less alone with themselves too. Writing here has given me the gift of finding kindred spirits and also the chance to support others in their hour(s) of need. Some of us have secret selves that cause us pain and vast loneliness. We can't sit down with our family and friends casually and say (by way of dinner conversation) something like "I thought about how nice it would be to be dead today. Wow, it's been a long time since I had that thought. Would you pass the salt please?"

Support. Laughter. Inspiration. These are things I have gotten from this strange place called the "blogosphere".

I can see how it can get overwhelming. There are a lot of voices out there. When you're plugged into the computer you will hear a lot more of them than when you aren't. Perhaps we'll all get to a point where we need to disconnect and drift away with the growing hunger for silence. Take it. I am sad when a blogger I love drifts off but if I have learned anything it's that this is a place of support and so I support the drift. Besides, I've noticed that blogs often spring back to life like favorite dead characters on soap operas. It only took Luke and Laura, like, ten years to come back from the dead, right?

I have started to put my very very dark content into a private online journal because I really don't think any of you are prepared for that content. Believe it or not I have censored myself quite a bit and it has started to really leak into my work here. There's a time and a place for everything. This mental journey of mine is raw, frightening, pervasive, and in need of airing but not now. Not here. I cannot share it with people who don't understand that journey. I have to protect myself.

That doesn't mean there won't be any dark content here or philosophical crap, it just won't be the really tough stuff. I would like to focus now on more of the light. The food. The garden. And the crafts. The things so many people visited Dustpan Alley for in the first place. If I do well in my upcoming interview and find myself fully employed I will be entering a new chapter.

It's been three years since we've had any kind of financial stability. Three years of constant financial tension. If I am fully employed (particularly with jobs that I can look forward to every day) then I just might be able to put polka dots in the windows again. I just might be free enough to breath again.

Free enough to not give a shit if my blog makes a single penny. Free enough to not care if the popular girls spit on my locker or not. I cursed the coffee drinks I served them when I worked in cafes. I just might be free enough to play for playing's sake.

For the record I would like to say that I am not one of those people who is bothered by people making money from their blogs. Writers of newspaper columns make a living and that living is made by the ads and subscriptions their publication gets. What's the difference? If the writing is good I see no reason why the writer shouldn't get paid to write. Writing well is work. It takes skill, talent, and time.

This is my blog. Like a second home. A sanctuary. A sounding board.

I can't pretend I don't care if you're here. I do care. I prefer your company. I need to hear from other people. Your voices have comforted, supported, laughed with me, (uh, and at me, but I won't hold it against you), and made me laugh too. Your voices have been shining something beautiful and I feel more full when you speak up for yourselves and are heard. You've made me better than I was before.

So I will strive to improve still more. For whoever is left standing at the end of this Blog-A-pocalypse.

I Wanna Level With You

I think it's time to offer up a little primer on the nature of this blog and who I am. I like to say about myself that I'm a full disclosure gal, and compared to most other people this is true. I'm afraid though, that people are all too willing to believe that I tell my whole story right here. That I spill the entire contents of my heart, soul, and mind for public viewing right on this page.

If I did that, there would be nothing left of me for myself. I share what I want to share and keep a whole lot to myself. However, this can complicate things, this little web of misdirection. And I feel it's time to come clean over a few very important points:

• In spite of the fact that I do really hate my body right now and share my struggles with that issue here on my blog, and in spite of the fact that I refer to myself as "insecure" and compare myself unfavorably to other people at times, I have quite a healthy self esteem. I'm human, I have my bad days, I have my childish moments, but I actually wouldn't want to be anyone else. There isn't a single other person I would rather be because I've spent 37 years already dealing with my own issues, why would I take on anyone else's? Plus, I like who I have become. So don't assume that my self deprecation is rooted in real self loathing. If I was truly loathing myself I would probably not be making fun of myself as often. If I was really deeply troubled about myself I probably would not tell you.

• I've been there already in that very special hell and it isn't a chatty place.

• I have a philosophy in life that is hopeful, though practical. It is important to my mental health to invest in a positive outlook, to see the world as fresh as I can every day. I ask questions, I investigate, I judge, and re-judge all the time. This outlook has tended to mislead people into thinking I'm naive and inexperienced. This is a mistake. This somewhat youthful exuberance I encourage in myself has sometimes led to people feel the need to protect my gentle fragile soul from harm, to offer non-stop guidance and surrogate parenting. I think it's wise for people not to do this. If you feel this way about me, you should keep it mostly to yourself. I've been parenting myself for most of my life and I consider myself quite adequate. I know I appear more vulnerable than I actually am in writing because in writing I am directing the show.

• In the real world I have cut people out of my life completely for sucking my energy dry and spreading negativity over my heart and head. I don't suffer fools indefinitely, though I like to give most people a chance. But you might not see the ax coming because I don't enjoy wielding painful weapons. I am a very strong individual with an incredibly clear sense of what is right for me and the willingness to insist that I live in a healthy environment surrounded by positive people.

• I am accustomed to giving advice, not asking for it. Though I do enjoy hearing other people's own take on things as it relates to themselves as this offers valuable perspective and a nice feeling of being amongst kin.

• It isn't wise to take me literally all the time. When I say I "hate" someone for being beautiful or talented, I actually almost never hate them. Usually the truth is that I genuinely admire them. But it's more fun to hate someone beautiful than to be skulking in their shadow like a weaker acolyte. The reality in my heart is that there are no people I envy enough to dislike just because they have what I think I want. My envy, when it happens, is extraordinarily benign. But I do like to have fun with it in my writing.

• I keep a lot more secrets than most people imagine possible. Being a full disclosure gal is the perfect way to camouflage the truth. If I tell you almost everything, you will soon believe I have held nothing back. It isn't fair, perhaps, to play people like that, but it is self protective. This should give you a clue as to the true sophistication of my mind. I am not naive at all, as it happens. But a lot of other people are.

This is much to chew on. I use this blog as a daily journal. I chronicle my life, my thoughts, my ever expanding interests, and also let off steam. I let off a lot of steam here. This is merely a little capsule. When a morning is bad and it gets me thinking of very dark issues, as I did yesterday morning, it is still just one morning. Life doesn't fall apart because a family has a fight. Life isn't capsizing just because everyone in it needs therapy. But it can sound like it when you read the immediate thoughts, the immediate emotions belonging to a person reporting their raw ever evolving thoughts.

I'm telling stories here. Mine. And enjoying the interaction this medium allows. But don't, for god's sake, make the mistake of underestimating my ability to steer this boat past shoals. I was born to be a Captain.