Just Go With It

I've done some crazy out-of-my-comfort-zone stuff lately, and I'm about to keep it going with even more outrageousness. Because dreams aren't always built with blueprints.

I have been restless since the last full week of July when I felt a sense of uneasiness and agitation about my future. I can't say whether these are symptoms of a mid-life crisis, or if I am really taking stock of my life and trying something new, but I had an epiphany of sorts after I wrote about my fear of success. It feels kind of corny to suggest that the stars aligned for me in that moment, but yeah, maybe that is exactly what happened.

That week I decided to stage a photo shoot to promote the new tees for my Busy Black Woman Vote Campaign. I believe my inspiration began with the election results in the Alabama Senate race because all of the post-election analysis suggested that it was the organizing and turnout of black women in the state that helped to elect Doug Jones over the pedophile (and I will never understand why that was even a close contest). Then it was a series of stories about how more women were becoming involved in the political process in response to what happened in 2016, so I designed a new shirt. I ordered a prototype of the shirt and wore it to a rally in February. Then I left it to hang in my bathroom for several weeks to collect dust.

Fast forward to May when I hosted a voter engagement panel at my church. It was poorly attended and I was discouraged by the amount of work I put into planning that went unacknowledged (another issue for another time). But somehow that motivated me to proceed with the shirt, so I placed a limited order. After I wore that shirt to my local primary, I decided to place another order for the full range of sizes, of which there are 18 unsold shirts...

I forgot to mention that I want to donate a portion of the sales to the National Voter Registration Day effort. And I made that donation last week even though I still have 18 unsold shirts.

I also have unsold coffee/tea mugs, shoe bags, and the remainders from the original order of shirts I made several years ago when I had the bright idea to design a shirt to accompany the Busy Black Woman blog. So far this year, I have sold a few, including the one I sold last week.

It was a random decision on a Thursday morning that resulted in this:

(Oh, and by the way, that is another shirt prototype in the photo.) There was also this unexpected turn of events on Twitter the following day. And now I've decided to write a book.

I used to think that the great book I would write would be a work of fiction, but I don't write fiction. I read fiction. And I am such a snob about the types of fiction that I prefer that I believe I would be an even worse perfectionist about any attempt and never get the damn thing written. Because I actually started to write a fictional story several years ago about a well-to-do church family in a southern city and I swear Greenleaf is probably what it could have been if I had just kept at it. (Yes, I believe that).

So I am going to write a book about my life that is not really a memoir or autobiography, but one that maybe folks will read. And I decided to write this declaration out so that I can have it bug me whenever I don't spend enough time working on it. I probably won't be telling too many people about it, but it is my hope that once the effort is complete, I will be in a space where I am no longer afraid of success. Which means for now, I only have to succeed at finishing the manuscript.

Talking to Myself

I haven't written in this space in quite a while, but that's because I've been "building" over at Busy Black Woman. And I can't say for sure what that means.

I have 128 followers on the FB page. I get on average 20 reads of anything I write on that blog. I'm up to 18 followers on Instagram. Every now and then, I post something that reaches more than 25 people on Facebook (today I reached more than 120 people by posting an article about Pat McGrath). Little by little; bird by bird.

I am still very restless and anxious and unsure about the future. I know that this is the precise moment when someone should send me one of those memes about a person just about to have a breakthrough, but they quit and so it never happens. But since that hasn't happened (I checked), I will share that Ann Taylor Loft is having a sale and so is Nordstrom.

But then I found this:

But I have several dilemmas. I don't have a clue what my breakthrough is supposed to be. Do I want to sell some tee shirts? Yes. I have a few good reasons: (1) I don't want to monetize my blog with third party ads; (2) I think I have something clever to say; and (3) I'm making an investment in my work and I can't afford to give everything away. Do I want to be a tee shirt vendor? Not really, because I am a writer. But, I am trying to build a following, and I heard a voice that told me to do this. And I am not kidding. I listened to a voice that told me to invest in myself in this way.

Of course, in writing this, I am admitting that I have doubts. I am beginning to think that I was just telling myself to try something different and bold. And maybe this will be a disaster that finds me giving away free tee shirts to my handful of followers at some point in the future.

I needed to write that out--to admit that I am having big time anxiety because I am too proud to tell anyone. I don't have any safe havens for sharing my feelings anymore. This has been true for a long time, which is how and why I write as much as I do, because in any given 24 hour period, the only other person in my orbit is a three year old who doesn't really talk to me either. And while I am convinced she understands me very well, her unwillingness to express herself is just another example of how lonely and pathetic I feel.

Despite my doubts and anxieties, I am serious about investing in myself. I will keep the faith, even though it is smaller than a mustard seed right now because what choice do I have? What do I have to lose other than what I already don't have? And I could gain something...

Because I am a writer. And that is why I am still writing even if I haven't sold anything. I may not be a tee shirt/mug/shoe bag vendor, but I have a message that I want people to receive, even if I have to give some of it away for free. You might get blessed with a tee or a mug, or you might be blessed by something you read. And maybe that will spur you to buy a tee that you might remember to wear to some event where someone sees you. And that person might inquire about the shirt and you will tell them about the blog and it happens to be a day that I have been particularly poignant about some random topic. And maybe that person can change my life. Or maybe you might take your free mug to work and leave it unwashed in the common area where someone comes along and wonders who left behind this cool mug. And maybe that coworker swipes it, so you have to order another one (or you threaten to issue an inter-office beat-down). Either way, another new person discovers the blog.

And so on, and so on...

Do It Anyway

I started this post at the BBW blog, but quickly had to conquer my anxiety to post based on a personal deadline I had set. I am re-launching the #HBCUJustGive campaign and got some new promotional ideas to assist in that effort. The big plunge was recording and then posting a companion video.

I am standing at the water's edge with a toe skimming the foam of the crashing waves. I sometimes venture in to the point where the water reaches my calves, but most of the time I am content to walk along the shore line. But tomorrow I plan to dive in.

(I am not sure flowery writing is my thing...)

I have been planning to do something big, but I have been stymied by the familiar doubts that always seem to erect a barrier between my visions and reality. The same thing happened the other night when I spent half the day stressing about whether to wear my new BBW tee prototype (I wore it). The same thing happened back in November after I ordered a box full of mugs that I was reluctant to advertise. The same thing happened a few years ago when I debuted the initial BBW tee and got dissatisfied with the printing on a few of the shirts. Let's not even address my writing process...

I always get in my own way. Perfection is the enemy of the good.

I even designed a shirt for this specific issue, which says to go for it, to do it anyway, to take the plunge, go the extra mile, put your best foot forward, and whatever other maxims are supposed to be encouraging in moments like this. DO IT (with no infringement on Nike's trademark, I might add).

Because you only live once. Because someone else will do it. Because that other person's effort won't even come close to your vision. Because you will always wonder what if. Because if not you, then who and if not now, then when?

A friend asked me to articulate an objective for what I am doing and to be honest with her and myself, I have no idea. I believe I just want to feel like I am doing something other than just watching life go by. After nearly ten years of being a caregiver, and then more than 15 years of working but never making any real professional progress (or enough money), I know that it is time for me to take the extreme risk of speaking for myself and walking on my own. I have had this dream of being a writer for a long time, probably much longer than I even realized but laboring in obscurity or as a ghost writer isn't enough. For all intents and purposes, I am a writer. I write all of the time. And I am a recognized writer. I am just not acknowledged as such in any formal fashion.

So instead of trying to stumble into recognition by random twists of fate, I am trying to build a brand, which is something that I would not have said back in 2005 when I first formally began to blog. Yet, I hope that I can build a following and create some recognition for my voice. I look around and I see that there are plenty of people in the world who can do what I do for better or for worse. I am not in competition with them though, because I am simply looking for my tribe. Looking for others who can relate to my struggles, my ideas, and who are willing to support my dreams.

As I have been on this journey, I have learned to adjust my expectations, which is why after recording several takes and then encountering computer issues that made it difficult for me get the perfect take, I did something that I am learning to become more comfortable doing. I went in with the best take I had and even if only a few people see it, I posted it. But I plan to try again, so perhaps I have other opportunities to hit my own very high bar.

My final point is that by taking this risk (which is not nearly as great as it felt in the build up), I am investing in myself. That is something I haven't really done in a LONG time. I have often taken small sure steps towards a particular goal, but rarely have I ever just jumped without knowing what would happen next. Even when I had my daughter, I feel like the risks were manageable (because until recently, I thought my greater challenge had been in caring for my Mom). And that is exactly why this was such a big deal--I usually have an eagle eye for the road ahead. I have NO IDEA what will become of this, but for the first time, I am okay with not knowing.

So here I go!

Better Intentions

I have been at this precise place so many times--regret that I didn't live up to the expectations I set for myself. Disappointment that I am always seemingly starting over from the same place, beginning again at the beginning.

This year is already a wash.

I had plans. I had intentions. I had goals. Yet here I am, with nothing to show for any of those lofty hopes and dreams. I am standing in the same sad spot and always for the same reason: My inability to put my needs above those of the members of my family.

Which family member? It never really matters. With the addition of a child, it would seem that I have an acceptable reason for never accomplishing much of anything, except that isn't the case. My daughter inspires my need to actually push myself to be more than just another frustrated, reluctant housewife turned obscure, undiscovered blogger. And as she has grown from sweet baby to this unruly, insane Toddlersaurus, I should have endless material from her daily antics. According to my blog journal (the notebook I carry to jot down blogging ideas) I could perpetually write about busy black motherhood and possibly *finally* garner a following.

Yes, I have a blog journal. It was part of the elaborate plan that has yet to materialize thanks to that other unyielding demand that I am always trying to manage. That other familial obligation that I am trying desperately not to resent, because that would be selfish. And we all know that whenever I focus any attention to myself, for whatever reason...

Yet, this did not begin with the choice to focus on myself insomuch as it feels like it began with the intention to do so. My intention to devote more time to writing and live vlogging and starting a podcast and a few other projects...all on the back burner because at the beginning of the year, a new chapter began in my long-running family drama. Which has left me bitter and angry and depressed. And eating all the time. Or sleeping. Or intentionally missing certain social engagements. Or doing drastic shit like chopping off my hair and dyeing it different colors including platinum blonde. Or not sleeping.

(I actually plan to write about this situation in a more direct form, but now I need to vent without identifying or defaming anyone.)

So here I am. Angry. Bitter. Depressed. Hurt. And feeling all of the guilt that was intended for me to feel because somehow, I am the only person who has any responsibility...

For the record, in the interest of trying to move beyond the anger, bitterness, depression, hurt, and guilt I have been willing to continue to make the uncomfortable choices. To be the person in the line of fire. To be Atticus Finch and do those unpleasant jobs that no one else wants. And it hasn't meant anything. I am still standing in the same fucking spot.

So, I am going to write anyway to try to work through all of my feelings. I've decided that this situation is less about my better intentions than it is about adjusting my expectations. I will simply write to let go of things and maybe that will help.

Week One

I have been inspired to write a lot lately. I have been posting a lot to the BBW blog, and this piece started there, but I am posting it here as I try to figure out a few things about my direction these next few years.

I feel like I am just spinning my wheels here--both on this blogging effort and at life. I wonder about life generally because the older I get, things just seem to get more complex. There is a lot of shit swirling around me and I feel utterly powerless in its midst. There is a lot of change going on in the world and you already know how I feel about much of that nonsense and fuckery (yeah, I am back to cursing). And as writing is my refuge in times like these, I am placing a lot of pressure on myself to increase my output even though it is not entirely clear that it matters...

So let me address that issue first. I started blogging more than 10 years ago just to have a means of expressing myself, but I have been writing like this for years. Before it was called blogging, I wrote pieces in a spiral bound notebook with a black Bic ballpoint pen. When I wrote out some of my thoughts on the computer, I called it computer journaling.

When I began this effort, my intention was to be discovered as a writer. I had written a few things that had generated some interest, and after having two jobs where I wrote to convey the positions of others, I thought I was ready for the next level. I think back in 2005 when this blog began, I had hoped that I would end up writing a column for some online ezine or maybe I would have written a book or two by now.

Well, I am still at it, writing in obscurity. I am a decent writer, but not a very good promoter of my writing. In fact, I am not good at all when it comes to self-promotion or taking credit for things. I am like those artists that only focuses on making art, but needs lots of help managing everything else in their lives because the art becomes all-consuming. Or perhaps I am a writer afraid of both success and failure because I have found failure is way too easy. It takes the same amount of effort as trying to achieve success; however, success requires more sustained effort. Failure can happen any number of times but success seems to be a one-time shot.You get plenty of opportunities to make the shot, but you only get that one chance to make that shot.

After blogging all these years, I believe that I want more, but I am afraid of what more means. Does it mean that I need to dedicate real time to writing and not just make the most of stolen moments? Does it mean that I need to prioritize my craft above the needs of everyone else, and at what cost?

Which is where I question how well I am doing at life beyond my writing. This month has already been a bitch and whenever I think things have calmed down, shit happens. Like yesterday, I was working on this piece when I got a call that fucked the rest of my day, my night and is still causing me agitation. So when I contemplate whether I should become one of those people whose every waking moment is spent honing her craft, it is never a realistic thought. Or in other words, I could never truly tell the rest of the world to go fuck off while I write since a good deal of what fuels my need to write is the shit that happens to me!

My most honest writing comes from the constant questioning and self-doubt: have I been a good enough daughter, am I a decent mother, how can I be a better wife, why don't I feel like I am enough? Why do I take so much to heart? Why do I keep getting in my own way? Who am I to think that my dreams are realistic? Would I have been better off if I had just been content to be a mediocre lawyer? What made me think I had what it took to be any kind of lawyer in the first place (remember how you nearly failed out of law school)? Why don't you just give up and admit that you are a failure?

Because even if I am unexceptional, mediocre, average or just ok, I am not a failure.

So I will continue. The world may never discover me, or it might. I will continue to write when I need to express how the world affects me. I will write when I have a lot to say but no one available to hear any of it. I write to leave a record of my opinions, my thoughts, my anxieties and also my hopes and dreams. I write because I am a writer.

By the Way

I am back to blogging.  And drinking.  Red wine.  Lots of Spanish reds.  And no, every post will not be about my mother and her dementia even though that is the single most significant thing that is happening in my life right now.

I might blog about the Baby Niece.  Or about politics (because I got pretty fired up about the Planned Parenthood vs. Komen Foundation spat today).  Or about how I have no money and no desire to do much of anything except drink red wine every night.

I might blog about this baby that the husband and I are trying to have.  Yes, I might be amenable to getting knocked up because for some reason, I think a baby is exactly what I need to feel better about my sorry life right now.  And yes, if I get preggers, I will knock off the red wine!

I can blog about all sorts of whackitude because in spite of my terminal depression, I still have a sense of humor.  Wait, all of that stuff goes on the BBW blog...so I guess that means I am back to blogging there too (I am, starting tomorrow).

Ciao!

Lately...

I've been blogging up a storm!  I think that the two weeks I had no computer access caused a backlog of ideas in my head, and now everything is just pouring out like water.

I wrote yesterday over at the BBW blog about fried chicken, then I chickened out and did not publicize it...dunno why except maybe it took me soooo long to finish that it was Thursday and so the point was lost.  Not that I was ashamed of what I wrote, but I think that my perfectionism makes it hard for me to just blog and go.  If I had done that, then I doubt the piece would have been all that good, but as it stands, I have no idea if anyone will think anything of it now.

However, I like the fact that my blog gets regular readers.  And I really like having this on the side to have as an outlet for everything else I am thinking.  I did not write here about some of the recent developments in my life yet, but it has been great to have this space as a security blanket of sorts whenever I feel like I have something to say, but am not quite sure whether it needs to be public (which of course it is...but not that public).

Two Hundred

I was working on another post, but then I realized that as this my 200th blog posting, I would rather it be able something significant, so I thought to celebrate this moment with a blog about my blogging :)  I started this endeavor in 2005.  I abandoned this effort in 2007.  I quasi-returned to it in 2008.  And I came back full tilt in 2010.  Now 200 postings later, I am very excited about the future!  And here is why:

1. I have learned a lot about myself in publishing my thoughts to the world.  I have a lot to say, but I have not only evolved in how I express myself, but I have become a lot more confident in how I present myself to the world when I am not blogging. 

2. I am more confident in my writing ability than my speaking ability, but that actually works in my favor.  I have discovered a strength that will be valuable to me for the rest of my life.  So what if I can never inspire people with a rousing speech--I can persuade through a well-written piece of prose.

3. My writing persona is authentic.  Not that I am fake in person, but I know that I am revealing the real me in my writing in a way that might not be as evident in person.  When I say something ironic or mean in my writing, I am intending to be ironic or mean. 

4. I want to take more chances.  I want to step outside of my comfort zone and have my writing reach more than just the people who happen upon this site or those who support me.  I have something to say, and I actually know what I am talking about most of the time.

5. This is my journey.  And for some time now, I have considered the opinions and perspectives of others (many quite well-meaning) in charting my course.  I am here by no accident, but because this is how the Lord intends for me to reach my destination.

I need to emphasize point #5 because some well-meaning people have been urging me to make different choices (i.e. get a job that would solve all of my financial and career issues) out of what they perceive tobe my best interest.  Lord knows, I could use some stability, but perhaps it is time to acknowledge that a job is not the only way to achieve that...

And here is what I really want to express--gratitude.  Gratitude to the Lord for revealing to me that everything in life has a meaning, even our stumbles.

I had an epiphany the other day so it had to be addressed in my 200th posting today.  I was imagining how different my life would have been if my career had not been so abruptly derailed.  I call it a derailment on purpose because in my mind, I was simply a passenger riding on a train when everything toppled over.  It began with the loss of a job, but my inability to sufficiently rebound into something comparable led to a detour that has taken me to many unexpected places.

Such as the courtroom.  I had tried litigation during an earlier bout with unemployment, and it had provided me with valuable experience and the ability to be adaptable.  Although I have tended to regard my little practice as insignificant, recently a former client tried to offer me a referral.  To her, the work I had done on her case was significant. 

Another unexpected place was the classroom.  Everyone in my family has become a teacher, and I often joked that at the beginning of each semester that education was the family business and that I was late in joining the franchise.  And truly, I have found the classroom to be a great fit, even as I found certain aspects of the profession to be exhausting and under-appreciated.

I am coming to terms with the prospect that I might never have biological children.  There was a time when I figured that having a baby would help to give my life purpose, but for whatever reason that has not happened.  And it caused me a lot of anxiety because everyone else in my demographic was having children.  It only added to my insecurities about the loss of my job as some massive sign that I was perpetuating a fraud on the world.  But plenty of wonderful people have never had biological children, and if I am meant to raise a child some day, I am fine if that blessing occurs because someone else cannot.

I have been broker than broke.  My savings are meager and my debts are massive.  But I keep pressing forward and have learned the value of frugality.  We have learned to live within our means and that has kept us afloat.  And I cannot help but to think that we are reaping what we have sown--service to others has supplied our needs. 

And finally, I look upon my marriage as a major silver lining in a cloud of despair.  God willing, we will celebrate 10 years in October and I feel so magnificently blessed.  Not because I think marriage is better than being single, but I believe that my marriage has been better for me than being single would have been.

So I am celebrating 200 blogs at the Cafe and hope to build on it with so much more in the future!  Ciao :)

Look to Your Left, and then to Your Right

OK, quick post since I was just here a few hours ago...

So, I clicked on the link at the top left of the page that says "next blog" and can I say that there are a lot of different people in the world. One woman is a stay-at-home-mom with five children and a sixth on the way who home-schools. The next was a photographer who is ultra-Catholic. The next was another fundamentalist religious type.

And somehow, I got wedged in with them...not sure if the blogs are categorized by topic, alphabetically, or just in the order of who blogs next. Whatever. Strange company I keep here at the Cafe.

By the way, I am not making fun of my fellow bloggers. I think it is wonderful that there are women who want to be at home with their children, men who are adamant about their faith, and others who just have clear opinions about things. This is about people expressing themselves.

But stumbling upon their blogs made me think about the admonishment I received in law school--to look to my left and right and take note that one of those students might not make it to the finish line with me in three years time. In this case, I am looking to my right and left and seeing perspectives that I would probably not encounter in my daily travels. In general, I rarely interact with mothers of more than two children and I don't got to church often enough to engage people about their beliefs. My world, in a sense, is contained and limited to those whose lives mirror mine...a lot of childless folks with more faith in reason than in God. As broad as I think my perspective is, I just discovered in less than 10 minutes that I only inhabit a small, dusty corner of the world.

(Brought to you by an Argentinian white :)

*****
Checking in after some blush wine and ironing (editing/updating):
I clicked through the "next blog" links over at the BBW blog and I am apparently mixed in with the Mommy group.  I am not a Mommy.  I am a housewife, but I am not anyone's Mommy.  I am an Auntie/Fairy Godmother to about 15 children, but I repeat, not a Mommy!!!  Why am I lumped in with all of these women who are blogging about their children and pull-ups?  I never talk about children...do I?  Even if I did, none of them belong to me, so I am concerned that no one is going to find me because I am categorized among the Mommy brigade.

Understand that being a Mommy is great and all, but it is a different level of womanhood than I have achieved at this point.  To be a Mommy means that I am concerned about strollers and playdates and preschool choices.  None of that crap is even hinted at in either of my blogs.  So what gives?

I am thinking that part of this is the larger category to which I belong which is women under 40 (well give me a few years and I guess the topics will shift to retirement and menopause).  Is Blogger trying to tell me something...are my eggs drying up while I spend too much time worried about my career?  I need another drink...

OK, So I'm Going to Try This Again

I just logged in for the first time in nearly a year. I am surprised that the blog hasn't been overrun by spammers.

I don't even know where to begin. I could pick up where I left off last September, but that would be boring. To make a long story short, whatever I was afflicted with last fall went away and although I am not exactly the glowing picture of health, I am surely not death warmed over either. Also, in case you were wondering, I am still broke and under-employed.

And that is about all there is to report.

I'm back because I miss writing. I've gone months without writing anything of significance. Sure, online lectures qualify as significant writing, but the only people who read those are my students (barely).

I stopped writing when I became frustrated that my blog was just one more voice out there in a crowded room full of shaky soapboxes. I determined that writing for an audience of one was akin to the age-old philosophical question about that tree in the forest...

In truth, I was afraid that I would eventually be discovered. How could I justify my musings and rants to a potential employer? It could cost me a job, I reasoned, so I quit to avoid succeeding at something that I actually enjoyed...

Yup, I am a coward.

Right now, I am having the hardest time even writing this re-re-introduction. There are tons of ideas going through my head, but there is also the dread that I am setting myself up again for another emotional implosion. What makes me so sure that I will be able to withstand the pressure this time?

Years ago, someone told me that my worst enemy was my own self-doubt. She was right. At times, it is utterly debilitating. What is my problem? I can write as well as, if not better than some of these folks. So what am I waiting for?

I am still trying to answer that question, so that is one of the reasons why I returned. I need to find my voice again, and see this endeavor through to wherever it may go. Anything is better than wondering "what if".

So, I guess that means I am writing. Again :)

Ciao!

You Won't Believe This, But...

I decided to come back! I still believe this is a waste of time, but whatever!

I made the fateful decision to stop blogging a few days after my last post. There were several reasons, namely I worried that someone important might stumble across one of my rants and that it would have devastating consequences for my future. There were all of these stories floating around about people who lost jobs and school admissions because of blog entries, and despite the fact that I don't really have a job and am not interested in returning to school, I did not want to put any future employment or academic prospects in jeopardy.

So...I got scared and stopped cold turkey. Not that stopping was all that hard since my last few posts were sporadic due to my crazy schedule. The real issue was what to do with the blog as it existed.

Deletion was not really an option since Internet pages have a tendency to live on in faraway archives and cookie caches. And at times, I wrote some pretty good stuff, so I decided to collect all of my favorite blogs, edit them a bit, and compile a "Best Of" portfolio in case I ever wanted to look back fondly on my time on Blogger. I also thought it would be a great way to share my work with others since I never promoted my blog. I planned to print it out, get it copied to bind in some nice folders, and give those copies away to use as a fire starters during BBQ season (just kidding about the BBQ part).

Well, I selected my favorite 50 entries and got started on the editing and layout process. It was tedious because I am such a perfectionist, but this was a labor of love and it was worth the hours of effort. I even wrote a forward, sort of a farewell entry that would explain my reasons for having a blog in the first place. The final product was great (imagine me patting myself on the back).

But wouldn't you know that my printer ran out of toner the day I prepared to print my opus! Then I got all caught up with school because at the same time, I was teaching three classes (which really is a lot more work than you might imagine). And then I had a health crisis which scared me so bad that I ate myself silly. And then, because life is like that, it was just one thing after another and now it is JUNE.

I still plan to *publish* my opus. But, in these past few months, as life continued to swirl around me, I realized that no one was thinking about my silly little blog except for me. And I really missed my blog.

More than anything, I missed the regular habit of writing for myself. I write for other people all of the time--emails, exams, letters, legal documents, etc., but rarely do I write anything that has nothing to do with anything in particular. One day I could use my blog to share my pain if I was feeling blue. Or I could share my joy when things were going well. I could bitch about stuff on the news that pissed me off or I could opine on the big events of the day. Or I could use my blog to ponder the lint that had collected in my navel. Everything was fair game here in a way that real life just did not allow.

Frankly, I cannot believe that I let fear of discovery stop me from doing something that had such a positive effect. It is not as if blogs contain the worse content on the Internet. I imagine that the same people who use Internet searches to disqualify job candidates and school applicants for their written thoughts are the same hypocritical, self-righteous folks who sell personal information or watch porn. No one can track them because they know how to avoid leaving trails, but whatever. Blogging has its pitfalls, but so does walking outside on any given day. There is nothing that I can do that will not result in being found out, so why worry about the unforeseen consequences?

This morning I felt compelled to revisit this site and I am glad that I did. I cannot promise that I am back for real because I am perpetually over-scheduled and this really does chew up a chunk of time. I should be working on my midterm exam right now...but for now, I plan to come back here to muse about all things bright and beautiful, creatures great and small, wild and wonderful, stuff God made all in all.

Ciao!

New Year, New Drama

I haven't blogged in a while, and I am not sure if I will continue to blog in the future. I saw a piece on Keith Olbermann a while back that said no one reads anyone else's blog anyway...

So all of this effort is for naught. I will not be discovered. I will not garner any significant traffic or attention to my writing through this space. This was a failed experiment.

But it was useful. I am a decent writer, and with practice, I might become a better writer. No chance of my ever becoming great because I have a very short attention span and I am too much of a perfectionist. Writers are perfectionists, but authors are people who accomplish things, like publishing...

I am both unaccomplished and largely unpublished. I had a shot at being more, but I blew it because I was overwhelmed, and frightened, and burnt out, and I was getting married.

And now I am miserable. Happy New Year to me!