Now that the stat counter has plummeted back to normal, the decidedly mixed feelings I have been having about blogging have returned. I like the exercise and the discipline of it, but I can’t shake the feeling that I am little more than entertaining peep show for all but a handful. I am interested in other things besides blogging about my own life exclusively. Politics. Well, not so much but I am incensed about the fact that sexism is sticking me yet again with a self-entitled and smug male. It’s feeling like the Reagan era all over again when I had to listen to people telling me how wrong I was about trickle down economics and deficit spending and that Reagan really wasn’t a doddering old front man for the evil wing of the Republican party. Charisma is the only thing that matters to Americans anymore. It’s why Bill won and Hillary won’t, and the sad thing about that is that she would have left a better legacy than he did. I am also thinking a lot about my writing and what excites me about it and what I am struggling with. I love just sitting and writing. Seeing the words appear on the screen. Watching characters come to life and their stories unfold. Lately I have developed a habit of taking people I see when I am out and turning them into characters for a story I am working on. There was the no-necked cafeteria worker at the Royal Albert Museum and the double chinned woman at the imaging place yesterday. I wrote about them practically on the spot because I always have a little notebook and pen in my purse these days to jot ideas down as soon as I can. And pens. I am writing with pens now when it used to be I could write with nothing but pencils. How odd is that? I remember Will teasing me about my aversion to writing with ink and he wondered why I couldn’t seem to put anything down that I couldn’t erase. I wonder now too and wonder what has changed more – me or my life. Some might argue that it is my life but I am not so sure.
Bloggin
Yesterday’s piece prompted a conversation with my husband on its tone and then ultimately on what the continued purpose of blogging is for me. It’s a legitimate and timely question. I began blogging in July of 2006 as a means of self-therapy about six months into my widowhood. Blogging eventually became a way to build up my writing muscles and a way for me to share my journey from widowhood to a new life. Somewhere along the way this last year, it became more about the writing than the sharing though as I would veer away from self-exposition to the merely topical. Thursday I fell backwards with my views on alcohol. Harsh views. Views colored by my own experiences and my own family and my own choices. As my husband, correctly, pointed out, I was not taking culture into account and what I view as not the norm and unhealthy is probably quite the norm and in the eyes of the practioners not unhealthy at all. But the thing is, blogging is the most “I” centered form of first person narrative there around. In a blog, the narrater is character, commentator and as omniscient as it gets. Because a blog is an all about me thing. Whether I am topical – with the Obama piece the other day – or color commentating on society and culture or just sharing odds and ends from my life, this blogging thing is all about me.Which begs the question then, why am I blogging still? Do I have therapy left? Do I need to develop more writing discipline? Do I have aspirations of finding some vast audience and selling them to the highest advertising bidder? The answer is not simple. I don’t really know why I am still blogging. More and more I feel as though I am the central character in a soap opera. People come and they read and they leave without comment much the way they would watch a serial on HBO. I am entertainment at best or at worst some sort of Truman Show. They say that blogging is one of those ultimate forms of narcissism. Maybe. I did say earlier after all that blogging was a me thing. But if most bloggers are like I was when I began this (an insanely presumptious leap) then it is more a case of someone for whom giving and care-taking is the norm of their real world and the virtual universe is where the worm turns and evens up the score. But, I can’t say that my life today is all about others. There is tremondous balance for me now. Moreso than at any other point of my life. Still I hang onto the blogging. It’s just not enough to journal – to write for myself anymore. Maybe as I find more of my voice as an author, I will need my blogging voice less or not at all. Who knows. I just know that blogging is all about me really and that some people like to read about what I think, do and feel. I guess that I am lucky because unlike poor Truman. I am at least writing my own scripts.
I am not much for slogging through blogs in search of entertainment or good writing or both. The handful of blogs I read regularly belong to women I met through the YWBB and that I have listed on my Widow Blogroll. Anything that is evenly remotely entertaining, my husband Rob found using StumbleUpon and then went on to find others through the links he found on the worthwhile blogs he stumbled across. Stumble is a program that you can use to find specific topic oriented blogs or just randomly flip through like a couch potato with satellite. Through Stumble Rob discovered A Riot is an Ugly Thing along with its host, Uncle Keith. Uncle Keith, I should warn you, will not be everyone’s cup of tea. He is middle-age though he claims to be old. He is unapologetically incorrect and he likes to post pictures of scantily clad women who could be his (of legal age) daughters. But he can be funnier than hell while doing all of the above. Another pervert Rob discovered before the days of Stumble was the host of What Would Tyler Durden Do? (WWTDD) For you non-Fight Clubbers out there reading this from your IKEA-ized domains still in your khaki cubicle uniforms, Tyler Durden is the the name of the character played by Brad Pitt in the movie, Fight Club. It is one of my husband’s favorite movies and my step-daughter’s favorite books by her favorite author, Chuck Palahniuk. When I first began corresponding with Rob via email (because yes, where would two internet junkies meet but on the www), he told me I reminded him of Marla Singer. I was appalled (after I googled her up on Wikipedia) but in retrospect I can think of at least one area where she and I have some in common – though I am forbidden to go there (much) in my blogging. WWTDD is a celebrity eviscerating site, where the host skewers the flavors of the week and waxes pornographically about the current crop of famous tail. He may be Uncle Keith’s nephew. Tyler Durden came to us courtesy of The Gil Meche Experience. This is a cadre of writers there who claim to be law students somewhere on the East Coast of the U.S. The main blogger is a young man named Pulp who is on a mission (one of many) to expose David Brooks as a tepid writing talent. Nurse Myra of Gimcrack Hospital (PG) is someone Rob met through Uncle Keith who obviously enjoys her because on Friday she posts tastefully done pictures of herself in provacative clothing. She is a real nurse though in a real retirement home in the real place of Australia and she is a very talented writer. She writes with wit and style about the day to day of her job and the people she encounters. Rob discovered, inadvertently, that she was widowed as we are and thought at first that I should categorize her with the other widow blogs. While her “about me” states that she blogs to keep sane, she is not writing about her grief. Even if she were, I would still put her with the interesting blogs because she and it are that.The Diary of a Mad DC Cabbie is a Stumble find. He is not mad but he is a cabbie in the DC area and he blogs on all manner of things. He is funny. He is smart. And he is a very good writer. As is Johnny Virgil over at Fifteen Minute Lunch. I would do much to be that funny. His rantings on washrooms have earned him a place of honor in my esteem forever. Waiter Rant is just that, and apparently its author has written a book and was approached about turning it into a movie according to my oldest step-daughter. She is the original source of this blog and though my husband reads it – aloud to me – every so often, I don’t find it compelling enough to read on my own. It is well-written and others find it quite entertaining. And Rob likes it. He has much better taste in blogs as a source of leisure reading than I do. I am from the quaint old school of building community and friendships via the blogosphere. He does not believe that one can be friends with people who may or may not really exist at all. As one of my mommie friends from yore pointed out when she and the other women I now call friends met on BabyCenter – back in the days before we moved to a private group home – who knows who any of us really were. One of us could have really been a 55 year old man simply pretending to be a thirty-something pregnant woman or new mother. After all, you never know what some people will do to entertain themselves. Rob explains us, in case you are interested, as above average anomalies and exceptions to all rules.Blogging, in my opinion – ’cause that is the only one that counts around here, is a viable source of the written word as entertainment or information. One could do worse than to check out and become a daily reader of any of the blogs I have mentioned.
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