Or: Not Letting Sleeping Dogs Lay (Lie?) (Wait.) Lay. (Lie?)
Or: Not Letting Sleeping Dogs Just Sleep. Dammit.
I am pretty sure right after page one in every self-help book ever written comes advice about how "letting go" is the first step. Since I have never actually read a self-help book, except for all those ones about babies (which is the reason most women go completely nuts to begin with), I may be be completely talking out my ass here, but I like to think that things are the way I assume they are, so just go with me on this.
Here's how I think it works:
You turn over page one of self-help book and you get some big-worded essay about closure and moving on and making peace. You know this is a good idea, a great idea, a sane idea, and you try to carry on. You read more big words and it starts getting tiresome and maybe a little annoying or preachy or like, you know, work. So, you shut the book in absolute disgust and go eat something really yummy instead. Or drink something. Or smoke something. Or take a walk around the block. Or whatever.
You do this because you are not ready.
Which is to say, that if this were a dog, I am not ready to put the damn dog to sleep. In between Heather waxing way more poetic than I ever could about what it means to have new dreams for your grown up self that may or may not include the word "fuck" or Meredith taking a dive and having regrets (holla!) or the mom to the Chitlins finding a video that included both the bees knees and Jack Black to make my sad sorry day much better or Aimee who always seems to say something completely unrelated that completely relates to anything I am thinking -- stops. takes a breath -- and in between all the new faces who came* and shouted and all the familiar ones who are my beloved playground posse (like Carolyn and JenW and Meg and Kristin and Laggin and those Dads Who Mock and NashsMom and Goat and X and Bedhead and MAW and -- I talk too much; gestures at side bar) -- stops. takes another breath -- well, in between all of that, a girl gets to thinking (and thinking and thinking):
WAIT? Why am I doing this again? she thinks.
< minor interruption: um mom? yes. you know when I sleep on my head with my hair back there? um? yes? it hurts. OK. sleep on your cheek then. night nights.)
And it's not the hate (or the shame or the ugh OMG did I just say that OUT LOUD?) (well, maybe that IS a little part of it) that has me wondering. And it's not the worry that somehow writing a blog might inhibit my chances at a future in politics (because, um? this little thing is the least of my concerns on that front). It's the WHOLE BIG IDEA of writing stuff down (about kids or cooking or gardening or bikini waxing or celebrities in various states of mental illness or what have you) and allowing other people to read it that has me in a qua-qua-quandary.
WAIT? Why do we do this again? she thinks.
I might answer that question if I asked it of myself, which apparently I am, that I like the whole writing process so that's why I bother (despite the meanies; despite my better reasoning), but I'm not sure that is the answer completely. Some of you (and you being: you know who you are) (Carolyn) (NashsMom) do not consider yourselves to be writers or even thinkers, when in fact that is pretty much what you are doing. Writing. Thinking. Writing. Sometimes writing and then thinking as the case may be. (Mirror on self shining way, way too brightly.)
Maybe you (we?) do this to document some time and space like a virtual scrapbook. Maybe it's to make permanent some funny story before we forget it. Maybe it's to get a book deal (dare I go there? name names? I won't). Or maybe we want to stick a thousand needles in our heads like that acupuncturist did in Beijing to "honor" the Olympics and "express" himself. Is that what you (I?) (we?) are doing? Sticking needles in our heads to prove that we exist? Sticking fuck.ing needles in our heads?
Tell me. Tell me the answer, you great self-help sister/brotherhood of the blogosphere (should I tell you how much I hate that word? no, probably not, she writes, having learned from experience). Tell me, you writers of blogs and you readers of blogs, why? WHY?
Why do we do this again? she asks.
Because mostly: seems lately some great ones have fallen (Manager Mom, how you are loved) under the weight of these questions so GOOD GOD GOOD PEOPLE, ' fess up.
*****
*Those other new faces? They are Deeples and TwoBusy and Parties with An Infant and Different Girl and Lisa and and Lori and also blondebaldgirl and susieT and pandamom and skimom and ilana who I think I know and also notatenniskirtmom who I don't think I know (do I?), but love. With a capital L. That kind. And Anonymous, our new best friend.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
More Blogging about Blogging
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33commentsBrilliant Person Wrote...
As you may know, I sometimes succumb to blogging about blogging. And I too am in a qua-qua-quandry about it,daily. But among your answers, yes to all of them. As a person currently questioning her own existence, I think the one about the needles and proving we exist may be my pick. How long will it be here? Who will give a shit? I donno; I do know that it may be more than anything a catharsis - where I can say things that no one in my real life wants or has time to listen to. Especially when I get shit off my chest. Like today. It was great therapy.
Ya, Ms. P, you know me...I just can't come out of the closet until some of the truly vitriolic comments I made (you had me on a roll, what can I say) have died down.
So why be out here?
1. It's cheaper than therapy
2. It's a chance to hit people with the grammar stick when you'd never dare do it to their faces
3. It's the golden opportunity to rant and swear and be honest and say what you really think without seeing THAT LOOK, the one that says, you'll never run the wrapping paper sale in this school, sister. I hardly ever get that chance, since I'm so busy making nice with people and only sort of succeeding. I pretend I'm not judgemental, like it's totally not my business if a person sends her kid to school in $280 jeans (I know because I saw them in Styles of the Times), but let's face it, I really think that's insane. So this is a great chance to feeel like I'm either completely in tune with some other folks, or I'm just totally crazy about the jeans thing. Which I'm not.
And, um...sleeping dogs lie. My grammar stick is twitching with glee.
I do it to see where it will go. And because I used to journal religiously. From pre-puberty ages up to about 26. Then, it stopped. Mostly because my work became writing and to come home after work and write was like never leaving the office. Now I think of one as work and the other as fun, even though sometimes they switch places.
It's a lot different than I imagined. I didn't take into account the community aspect of it. I'm really diggin' that part.
I hope you're not thinking about stopping. I love stopping by here!
personal (that's funny) to notatenniskirtmom: let's keep our little secret secret then, OK?
because you my friend should have this secret. keep it. use it. 'nuff said. it is SO nice to be anonymous. not to be Mr. Anon (as we know) but still.
anyway, if you see me and I am grumpy or stupid or drunk, please keep it to yourself. a little dignity please; that's all i ask.
anyhoo, my sweet grammar-loving genius person, i dig you.
Why do I blog? That's actually a pretty easy one for me. It's because I'm somewhat lazy. Let me explain- when my kids were younger, I used to journal all their funny stories and incidents in their baby books. But I missed stuff. A lot of stuff- because I would swear I wouldn't forget and then I would and then poof, it was gone out of my head; a memory never to be recovered. And I was sad about that and since I work on a computer all day long, it started as a way for me to easily and quickly capture those moments.
Then it kind of morphed a bit as I started to think, Well, my kids will have a record of themselves which is good, but maybe they will wonder about me someday. Maybe they will wonder about their dad, too- what kind of people we were and what we were like as people, as parents, as a couple.
So, I try to put some of me in the blog, too. But sometimes that's hard. People like anonymous make it hard. It shouldn't be that hard. Right?
We do it because we can. Because in spite of the occasional trollish asshole, it's a Good Thing. It lets us say things we wouldn't say, it lets us tell the stories we might otherwise forget. It allows us to have a voice, a voice we want people to hear. Maybe not your 100% you voice (and really, who wants to hear that all the time? I don't even want to hear my own most of the time), but a voice. A good, true, ringing voice that yells out the truth, the fears, the silliness and sometimes the bile that accumulates within us.
And there are other voices. Voices who agree, voices who support, voices who say "Me, too!" Who allow us to see that we aren't alone, that we aren't quite as crazy as we thought we were, that what we have to say is valid and means something.
Fuck the trolls. Do it in spite of, TO spite, the trolls. Fuck 'em. What's that cod Latin phrase? Nil carborundum illegitimi.
um bedhead? THIS is exactly why i admire you. Add Latin? the only language I ever learned? done deal. done.
And JenW: your beautiful essay about your Mom and missing the parts of her you didn't know? that made so much sense to me. when i needed it.
onward!
Well I am boring (as is my blog) - it all started last fall when in the matter of three weeks I was finally diagnosed with an autoimmune/rheumatoid/muscle/garbagecan diagnosis/ailment/disease. The next week found out I also had kidney stones the "size of Rhode Island" (not to be overshadowed by my Texas sized pal of this month). As I was coming out of surgery I was told my stepfather had fallen, was bleeding on the brain, and less than a week later was dead. Oh, and then came the nearly three weeks of paperwork to get his body home. And then whilst planning to attend the funeral, my son got gravely ill, and spent 9 days in Childrens Hospital.
So I called it a journal. A place to jot my feelings, and preserve them (I hate to write - I like to type - but I am not good at either). Then oddly, people started coming for visits. People I didnt know. And it creeped me out. Now I hang out with some of them, but I am not blogging for their entertainment. Sometimes I will pose a question, but never do I expect anyone but the brick wall to answer.
So mine, technically a sounding board/bitch session/journal.
The added bonus is the bloggy (the term I HATE) friends I have found.
And then there is you - you rock. I love your wit, and your charm, and your potty mouth, I mean well versed mouth. And the nicknames for the kids, well they crack my ass!
I blog because, in the deepest recess of my heart, I am a writer. It didn't occur to me that the fact I think in narration should have tipped me off a long time a go.
My blog has let me practice, understand, and find my voice before I make the big jump (in October).
The other reason: I have grown tired of pretending I was all of the things placed onto me. I am slowly coming out as me. I am learning to stop apologizing.
Strength then. And friends who understand.
Well Ms.P, you and I have already had this convo on on the DL...but, here goes....
I started it for the kids, to keep a little bit of them locked away, floating around the internet cosmos. But, I am far to into myself to let them have ALL the black and white so, it started to morph into more of my personal thoughts, feelings, and rants.
But I do hold back.
a lot. so much.
The fear of people I KNOW reading it---more of me than what they would get or even want to get IRL--holds me back.
I did not start this anon. I do not put all of myself out there. And it is not the fear of a troll, a bad comment or strangers reading and then dissecting my writing (is it even that? pa-shaw). I could care less what strangers think of me(lie).
I fear the wrath of my relations and how they will look at me with (more) disdain.
If I were to be true to any person reading it or to myself.....I would pack up shop, give it back to the chitlins and have my own space in which to freak you all out with my amazing amounts of craziness.
I didn't really answer your question did I? well, I do it because I have to. It's a cathartic, spiraling journey that I find has helped me find my voice after squelching it for so (too) long.
Please keep on keepin' on.
You, Ms. P--grumpy, stupid, or drunk? Tell you what: I'll be overscheduled, cranky, running late, and hungover, and it'll be just like the seven dwarves. But instead of singing, we'll drive around and look for parking...totally anonymous, of course.
I write therefor I am.
You know how it feels when you give your house a good de-cluttering? When you toss the stuff you've been holding on to that really just gathers dust?
That's why I write to get rid of the clutter.
Although I'm fairly new to the blog wave (I hate that other word too) I have always felt like a writer so now I am, good, bad, or somewhere in between.
I do hold back, I admit it, because I have to exist outside of the internet as a molder of young minds and there is a certain responsibility that comes with that, but like the Whos down in Whoville who shout out "We are here, We are here, We are here", it's my little way of saying to the world, I exist.
Why blog? Why the hell NOT? If you can do it well (and you can), and you enjoy it (most of the time), then forget the introspection. In the hackneyed words of that great philosopher Nike: Just do it.
Bottom line, it's a place to vent and unload whatever is on my mind. It is therapy. If you go to a "real" therapist, you generally do the talking and the getting it out is what makes you feel better. Am I right??
I started blogging because the other adult in my house was getting mildly annoyed by my little pointless stories. So I basically quit talking to him and started to talking to my computer. I did it for me and if someone else happened to read it, yippee! But really, if no one did, I would still do it.
As so many have already said, it's the "new" journal. It's much easier to type than write. (And if my boss walked by right now and I had a notebook out and was scribbling away wildly she might raise an eyebrow)
And it's fun to peek into all of your windows from time to time to see what you're up to. This little gang of gals (and boys!) are fun and criss-crossing out there in blogland is fun. So if you're thinking of stopping, don't. Take a break if you want, but come back. We need you and most of all YOU need you.
I rarely surprise people in my blog because I write almost exactly the way I talk.
I blog because I love to write. I love to make people laugh and make people think. I love that people read what I right and I try desperately not to let that edit me too much.
Like anything you love, I think the simple bottom line is that you have to take the good and the bad.
Take your lumps when you deserve them. Fight back when you should. Accept praise with grace and humility. Hug your friends and supporters.
Sounds like you already have this under control. *grin*
WRITE! I meant WRITE!
*runs from Grammar Stick*
I'm sorry!
AAAAAH!
*whack!*
*whack!*
(( sigh.))
Ms. Picket:
1.) Burn the self-help books. That is metaphorical since I suspect you don't actually own any.
2.) Keep writing. You're good at it. It clears your brain. You need to do it even if you don't always know why.
3.) Vent if you want to. Be profane if you want to. Make fun of life and everyone if you want to. Who really gives a shit? Do not let random comments on your blog discourage that.
4.) Blogging does not have to be an existential exercise in self-actualizing. Oprah is the only person on the planet with enough time and money to actually self-actualize.
5.) All this shit we write about and complain about and carry on about is just crap that takes over our minutia of life until some actual big thing, some real catastrophe, throws us around. That's a good thing - being mired down in minutia. It means we're not currently embroiled in the real catastrophes of life.
6.) And keep it up because you have become part of a community - which is a lame but necessary term - out here in magic computer land and your friends would miss you terribly if you weren't around.
That's all. Now get back to work. I'm getting used to you posting every day.
;-) Carolyn
I mostly blog just to get the crap out of my head.
I write because I like to think I'm amusing, at least a little bit. And I love the fact that people READ me! everyday! Strangers (although some are stranger than others, heh heh)! I'd love to be able to do this for money, book, column, whatever. For now, I'll keep doing it for the love. And for the record, I'd love to be in your sidebar!
Ms. Picket, Ms. Picket. How you do analyze.
I like to think of it as all that you mentioned in your post. But mostly I like to think of it as Screaming at the Wailing Wall.
Say what you like, when you like. It's like taking a 10 mile hike and when you're in the middle of fucking nowhere you can screeeaaaammm!!!
And I think it's a creative outlet.
You keep doing your thing. I told you that before. You keep writing 'em, I'll keep reading 'em.
Pinky Swear.
I blog because it's a space that my mother can't invade. I blog because it's a chance to get out of myself for a moment, and say what I want to say in my own forum. I blog because, for now, I love it. I blog because it's great to be part of a community. I blog for the same reasons that other people do paper mache, or build remote control airplanes, or learn to knit or crochet, or any number of hobbies. I blog because I'm part of the iGeneration, and it's a rite of passage. I blog so that I can take a few moments, every day, and force myself to reflect.
I blog to get things off my chest but also in HOPES that someone else out there will understand my thoughts, dreams, emotions, etc. And maybe get a laugh or two.
I blog to shush up some of the voices in my head. I blog to just blab on and on and on...and on...
To get feedback, support, discover people who's faces I've never seen and be given the gift of their friendship.
So many things. I used to write for a living. Mostly, I'm writing on a blog now to decide if writing is what I want to do forever. It's a great venue (when I'm not putting too much pressure on myself for no reason!), and I've discovered a ton of great voices who I'm glad write.
Ah, Ms. Picket. First, thanks for the shout-out.
Second(ly)... yesyesyes: because you are not ready. I love that. I get that people do this online unloading of words thing for countless reasons, and I get that any of these reasons is just as valid as any other. But what you said (and that may not even be why you said it, but I'll go with it anyways) resonates: what goes online for me goes online because, for better or for worse, I'm not ready to be done with it. It's far too easy to lose things to the endless routine of days -- to allow everything to blur together to the point that last week/last year/10 years ago differs only in terms of how many kids you had or where you were working or (choose your own minutia! It's a "choose your own minutia" adventure!).
The online thing? It's a way of not allowing all the pieces to get lost. It's a realization that there are some things I'm not ready to leave behind, unremembered or unrecognized. Sometimes (hell, most of the time) that amounts to little more than steam I need to blow off, or pointless opinions I want to share with the world (ha! sorry: sometimes as many as 8 members of the world), or poorly-rendered stories of stupid things that happened to me (or my kids. It's way better when it happened to my kids.).
Sometimes... it's something more.
But the online me is the me I'm not ready to leave behind to the relentless crush of days and vague recollections of something/anything that once, if only briefly, sparked bright for me. And if what I type happens to connect to someone - or even, heaven help me, elicit a response - well, hell... that's cool too.
Once again I am late to comment because I have been in a cave for a week but my response is: what everyone else said!
I started mine to rant about politics and then it morphed into ranting about my personal life. And now I just write to write. For me it's an exercise in sharing, as silly as that sounds. Anyone who knows me IRL knows that I kinda keep a tight lid on things. I don't know why but it takes a while for me to trust and open up. So somewhere along the sands of time in blogger land, I became a sharer. I opened up and shared, just for the sake of putting it into the universe.
I never expected a "readership"/participants but it's been absolutely amazing to have 'met' such wonderful people.
I do it cause I can. I do it for my mental health. I do it to make others laugh.
That answer suffice?
i don't want to be friends with Anonymous... he scares me!
I go through this all the time. ALL the time. And the bottom line is, it's worth defining for yourself. When you figure out exactly why you blog (and your reasons need to be really solid, really unique to you) then nobody -- not one impotent troll -- will be able to take this glory away from you.
I'm here through Heather, by the way, and see so many of my friends on your roll. I'm happy to be here.
Dude, if I weren't the Ilana you knew, you know, the one who helped Nash's Mom with your first baby shower, it would be HELLA creepy that I'd seen you with your kids.
If I thought I could blog and use less than 25% swear words, I might give it try, but I can't, so fuck that. I just read blogs I enjoy. You know, like yours...
I blog because my sisters goaded me into it. They thought I might actually have something to say that people would want to read. Well, I think they created a monster as I'm always "thinking" of what to blog about next. I guess that'll keep me from getting OLDER than I already am. Love to read your posts and am an avid fan of Carolyn...Online.
We think, therefore we blog. xxoo
I think I do it for many of those reasons and each post is driven by a different one.
I am quite possibly a narcissist who needs the attention.
I hope to show my kids someday who I really was and what I was thinking.
I'm too cheap to pay for therapy.
And I am driven with the conviction of my knowledge that, although I don't always have a deep knowledge of the greater issues, that doesn't mean that people should not be agreeing with my ill-informed opinions.
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