My blog is like a box of chocolates.

I’ve been in a bizarre not-so-funny phase lately on this blog.  The ebb and flow of life has deposited me into a mostly serious, muddy puddle.  I think I’ll float around in this puddle for a while… I kind of like it.  It’s cold, but refreshing… dirty, and real feeling.

For the past few days I’ve been feeling guilty.  I’ve felt bad for not “living up to” what people read me for – so I haven’t been writing.  My blog name is funny.  My header is fun looking.  I had to shake off the guilt of misleading you all.  In truth… I have no niche.  There is no “tone” to my blog.  A lot of you probably just don’t know what to expect anymore.

The “experts” say that people like to know what they’re getting.  People want to visit certain websites for their daily laugh, another one for their political commentary, another to feel spiritually uplifted.  I get that… originally that was my plan.  You were all supposed to come visit, shoot whatever liquid you were drinking out of your nose, smile, laugh at my expense, and then go about your day.

But this space is a reflection (although sometimes distorted) of my life.

Life is a fickle bitch.

I’ve decided not to reign her in.

Right now I’m stressed to my limit, I’m exhausted, and the world around me seems strange and foreign most of the time.  I have anxiety over the asparagus going bad in the fridge because I haven’t had time to cook it, while raging over the fact that politicians are trying to take away my choices as a woman.  I read certain headlines, and have to peek in my garage for the DeLorean, because surely I need to get back to the future.

Then my preschooler will do an interpretive dance to the music of his pinball game, and I’ll laugh not noticing the baby vomiting in my hair.

I’m counting on the fact that some of you out there still like surprises.

Because this blog is like a box of chocolates.

Sometimes it’s the coveted piece with the cherry inside.

Sometimes it’s just bitter, dark chocolate.

Sometimes it’s got fluffy, not-marshmallow, not-nougat, mystery filling.

Sometimes it oozes liquor.

And sometimes it’s a little nutty.

 

"You never know what you're gonna get."

 

 

PS- This blog is NOT one of those boxes that you turn over, and can read on the underside which pieces have what in them before you pick.

PPS- I’m starting to think Rachel Maddow is kind of hot.

Surprise!

 

 

Why I’ll never quit blogging.

It takes a village…

not just to raise a child, but to exist…

to thrive as a human being.

Our techno-lifestyles have reduced our daily physical connections with others.  I never have to see an actual teller at a bank, and half the time I deal with voice automation on the telephone.  More and more of us live long distances from our parents and grandparents.  The majority of the people I know would send an email before entertaining the idea of making a phone call.

But we have a deep, primal need to connect.  Through the Internet and social media we are building our own cyber villages.  We share photos of our lives, we share the music that touches us, and we make each other laugh with our stupid jokes.

Sure, there are the sparse wackadoodles who are not who they say they are online, but I think most of us are just trying to connect… whether we admit it or not.  Almost all of us are using something as inhuman as a computer… to feed our humanity.

For me it’s blogging.

Personal blogs are becoming everyday reads for a large part of the population.  They’re not news articles, they’re not magazines… they’re personal – they have heart.  A journalist can give you the details, a blogger can make you cry… or pee your pants.

I am brave behind the keyboard.  I’ve shared with you a miscarriage, depression, and an early lesson in compassion.  And we’ve laughed together so hard… about idiot phone companies, scarring my kid at the OB’s office, and really bad bowel movements.

A blogger strokes the keyboard, reaches through the computer screen, and taps you on the shoulder.  A personal blogger writes to make you feel, to make you laugh, to make you think.  A blogger (a good one) feeds your humanity.  And the best part of it all, the absolute best, is that you also feed mine.  It may actually be a tipped scale in my favor.

When I’m honest in my writing, it makes me feel human.  But when you, the readers respond… it makes me live.

The comments, the emails, the tweets from the other side of the globe… it’s a testament to the power of human connection.  You people are my proof that at the core, we are all so much more alike than we think.

Whether you read or you write, blogs are the cyber campfire.  The stories, the laughter, the debates, the bearing witness… it connects us across vast distances.

You are my village…

and I thank you.

I am amazed that I’ve reached so many of you.

I never expected so many of you would reach me.

Keep the embers of the cyber campfire burning…

because I don’t think I’ll ever quit.

 

PS- This is from my About page:

****

Pain shared is pain lessened.

Laughter shared is laughter multiplied.

Blog or perish.

****

My boys.

 

 

All my sick children.

10:30 pm – I close the laptop and go to bed.

11:00 pm – Baby wakes hungry.  I soothe and nurse him.

12:05 pm – I return to bed.

1:18 am – Baby wakes with diarrhea.  I change and soothe him back to sleep.

1:30 am – I return to bed.

2:40 am – Other son wakes screaming.  I run to him, and chase away the snake monster from his dream.  I soothe him.  I hold him in my arms until he sniffles his way back to sleep.

3:30 am – I return to bed.

4:02 am – Son wakes in a coughing fit.  I administer honey, help him blow his nose, calm the gag reflex, and avert puking.  I soothe him.

4:15 am – I return to bed.

4:30 am – Baby wakes crying.  I nurse him, take his temperature, and soothe him back to sleep.

5:00 am – I return to bed, think about writing for you, and open the laptop.

***

Clearly, I love you all like sick children.

Let me know if you need some soothing.

 

PS-  I’m fucking sleepy.

I could tell you about a contest, but I don’t wanna.

 

 

 

Blogger popularity contests are the new skinny jeans.

Ahhh, skinny jeans… we wanted to buy into you.  We wanted the promise of “skinny”.  We saw you everywhere, so clearly you must’ve been awesome, popular, and oh so worth it.  But why oh why were the majority of us just left feeling… uncomfortable.

If you’re active in the social media scene, I’m sure at some point lately you’ve read a post, or a tweet, or facebook status by a blogger asking you to vote for them for… something.  All you have to do as a loyal friend or reader is visit whatever website has nominated them, and click the “vote” or “thumbs up” next to their name.  And you can even vote once every single day.

These “contests” are different than Top Fifty lists that are put together by actual editors of an online website.  Those are opinions of the editors or committee and those bloggers are chosen by a number of factors.  I’m talking about the contests that ask the public to decide.

I did one of these once, and I can’t blame bloggers for getting caught up in it.  Who doesn’t want to be recognized for their writing, and opinions, and time and effort?  Only about 5 percent (completely made up statistic) of bloggers are actually going to make a living at it, so why not get a little pat on the back every now and then? Who wouldn’t want to make it on the list of  Ten Funniest Bloggers?

Top Twenty Daddy Blogs?

Hot Housewife Bloggers?

Most Fashionable?

Top Ten Bloggers Who Have Shoulder Length Hair?

Most Popular Female Satirical Bloggers Who Own Chickens?

It’s getting out of control.  I’m starting to get the skinny jean feeling about it. You know, lots of hype, made to look good, wear it with anything, everyone then wants in on it… and only very few benefit.  These websites that nominate bloggers (or let bloggers nominate themselves), are just using bloggers to pull in traffic. A majority of these contests are held on websites with no real significant cache or exposure, and if everyone on a list of 100 bloggers gets fifty people to visit every day and vote, that’s huge traffic.  The website gets lots of clicks – the blogger gets nothing.

Bloggers end up hounding their friends and family for votes.  It often escalates into a barrage of tweets and updates begging for everyone to go vote EVERY DAY.  But unfortunately, the prize for making it to the top of one of these lists is most often nothing – not even a little spike in website traffic.  If it were a contest where the winner wins a good amount of cash, a contract, a job, or a large donation to a charity – that would be a different story.

Plus, a blogger that watches their name rise and fall in one of these “popularity” contests often starts to feel less and less, well… popular.  Just like squeezing into those skinny jeans can make one feel much less skinny.  The top three bloggers on that list look awesome – everyone else looks like a loser.  The supermodel population looks great in skinny jeans – the rest look like sausage.

And let’s face it, begging every single day for people to vote for you can make you feel icky.  Much in the same way that sitting or crouching in skinny jeans does for your gut and crotch.

If you’re not already popular, these contests do nothing for you.  The A list blogger can mention briefly ONCE that they were nominated for this or that list and soar to the top.  There’s also that small percentage of people that can slip into skinny jeans, pair it with a relaxed but flattering top, the right pair of calf high boots and look stunning.  The rest of the population is left trying to be trendy while hiding their muffin tops, tugging at their camel toe, and staring at their mary jane flats wondering why their ankles look so small while their feet look so big.

A lot of bloggers are starting to catch on.

So let’s hope that these popularity contests, just like skinny jeans…

are already going out of style.