The Politics of Blogging

I really miss writing here. I’ve been blogging on this site in one incarnation or another since 2007 or so. For a while I thought I would become the next Heather Armstrong or Jenny Lawson and then, after a bad Google Adsense mix-up, gave up on that and decided to amuse myself. I’ve written movie reviews, recipes, random thoughts and more, all framed through the “me” lens that is the essence of a “me blog.” That’s what this is, really. It started out as my MySpace blog, for Pete’s sake. A blog that, incidentally, I deleted 70% of because I made the boneheaded mistake of blogging about work.

smh
smh

I think I’ve told that story before. It’s a cautionary tale for everyone who blogs – be careful what you say on the internet because it will exist FOREVER. You can never get away from it. And yeah, that’s true. So, because of all the stuff that’s been going on in my life in the last couple of years, I haven’t blogged. Partly because it felt fake to post movie reviews when I had a sick family member or a huge life change. Partly because I’ve WANTED to write about those things so badly that I haven’t been able to trust my own judgement about what to share and what not to share.

amazing photo by chrisbatu.com
amazing photo by chrisbatu.com

I read all this thought leadership on social media and blogging. Partly because it’s one of my jobs (well, one part of two of my five jobs) and partly because I am genuinely interested in it. How the world has changed since I was in middle school, even. High school, too. We didn’t have a computer in my house growing up. I didn’t have a computer in my home until 2002 or so, and it was a work computer. The fact that I rely so much on the internet now astounds me. The realization that I itch to write about my personal life on this website rather than in a journal where the pages can stay private and hidden both shocks me, shames me and pleases me just a little.

So, anyway. The other day I was sitting on the front porch of my cute, quirky, totally non-functional little apartment and I heard a dog barking from far away. The sound started getting closer and closer, and soon a bright blue car passed my house. A brown dog had his head out the window and was barking joyfully, rhythmically, every two seconds like a metronome. The car passed by with the dog still barking, and I laughed with pure pleasure at the ridiculous and hilarious things that happen every day, as long as we stand still long enough to experience them. So do I need to vent online about my family problems, my failed marriage, my fears and worries, or the fact that I got laid off the day before my birthday? No, I don’t. I can’t promise I won’t occasionally mention those things, but mostly I’m going to tell you about those beautiful bizarre moments as they happen.

Because life really is amazing.

Thoughts on Stuff and Things

This is sort of a brain dump.

Am Creepy

If the people I love knew how beautiful I think they are, they would be totally creeped out. I don’t mean it in a creepy way, I just think that when you love people it amplifies their beauty in your eyes. For me, it amps it up big time.

I figure I should add some pictures to visually stimulate you into reading all my self indulgent ramblings
I figure I should add some pictures to visually stimulate you into reading all my self indulgent ramblings. Wouldn’t it be funny if those were BATS instead of birds? And even if they are just birds, clearly she would really need that umbrella, because the odds of getting pooped on just increased a lot, Sister.

It’s History. It’s Poetry.

I have this one acquaintance with whom I have practically no interaction, but we are Facebook friends. He posts late night poems in his notes. Whenever I check Facebook in the morning and I see posts from him, I get really happy because he’s actually a pretty awesome poet. Kind of Ted Hughes-ish. It makes me happy when people have these talents. Because the guy is not a “I’m going to be a famous poet” guy, nor is he a “I went to grad school for poetry” guy. He’s a guy who does other stuff, but he writes these amazing poems.

ted-hughes-poet-1
Ted Hughes, not the guy from Facebook. Because how creepy would THAT be?

The Internet

I’m aware of the fact that my mind is busy constructing a new philosophy about the internet. It’s not ready yet, but when it is I think that it might change some of the work I do. It’s already changed a bit of what I was working on. I think it will change more. It’s funny. I think social media is kind of good. I know people who think it is a colossal waste of time and I get that. I wonder what other things I could have accomplished while I was checking Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, Pinterest, G+ and the rest. I wonder about the time I’ve lost because Facebook was a gateway to certain online games that have sucked away time AND money. Then I realize that people like this one lady I know, Donna Highfill, who writes and is very, very funny are using the internet and social media in a ┬ápositive, good way. That she posts status updates that make me think, laugh and that is good. I’m all about using social media for that. Anyway, I’ve been thinking a lot about the internet. SEO especially. Ethics. PR. Stuff. So I’m aware that my mind is busy working through this problem and kind of irritated about it, since I have stuff to do, darn it.

This is a totally unrelated image. It's a painting by August Friedrich Schenck. Enjoy. I find it heartbreaking and creepy all at the same time.
This is a totally unrelated image. It’s a painting by August Friedrich Schenck. Enjoy. I find it heartbreaking and creepy all at the same time.

Real Estate

I’m fascinated with this real estate thing. I’m working part time for a REALTOR (they make it all capitals for some reason) and I’m so blown away by the fact that people can do this for a living. The guy I’m working for is really good at it, so I’m learning a lot. It’s a complicated business but the needs and need fulfillment are simple. Somebody needs to buy a house. Somebody needs to sell a house. Help them. Get paid.

For some reason, I laughed for, like, 2 minutes at this picture.
For some reason, I laughed for, like, 2 minutes at this picture.