blogging about blogging. i know, i know, it's the ultimate cliche. not only am i selfish enough to have and keep a blog, i'm now going to indulge myself by writing about how i write on my blog. layers within layers in the onion of failure. however despite knowing all this i'm going to do it. i keep thinking about things and more often than not when i write them out loud here they stop bothering me. there's something magic about that 'publish' button that sends my thoughts spiraling out into the universe– it releases me from my worries, clears my head.
i feel in as if i've fallen between two fluffy couch cushions of blogging, down with our remote, a handful of cheerios, and those socks i can never seem to find. on the one side, there are bloggers who blog to be read. they write posts for others, they post at high-reading times, they do giveaways and cater to advertisers, and they self-promote the shit out of themselves. they're gunning for fame, or at least some kind of notoriety. on the other side, there are bloggers who write for the sheer joy of writing. they do it because they love it and don't care who reads– or if anyone reads. a passion is a passion, regardless of who sees it. few and far between are the "big name" bloggers who have found both success and the ability to write what they want when they please. the luck of one of a million of us.
where am i? this blog is a few years old now, i post five times a week, i have readers and perceived obligations to those readers. i write because i love it, because it's a record of my life, because i can express myself, because i get to meet you, my friends. but i would be in denial if i didn't tell you that i feel the pressure to write better, write more, get more, more readers, be bigger, be well-known. i don't know why, i just do. would those things change what i do here? not a whit. but in the amorphus world of blogging those are the sign posts we look to that say, "you're doing a good job. people like you." and who doesn't want to be successful and liked?
i'm not good at self promotion. i'm afraid to put myself out there, afraid to fail, afraid to be aggressive and turn people off, afraid to expose myself to the outside– because what's inside me is here. it's not always deep, or serious, but... sometimes it is. and it's me. as much as i want more more more i don't really want more more more. more friends maybe, more people i can connect with. more true relationships, but not more strangers.
i'm not really sure what the point of this post is. i just needed to talk about it. a lot of my most popular posts are about breastfeeding and frankly i'm tired of talking about boobs. or, well, i'm tired of feeling like i have to talk about boobs to please you. i could probably keep talking about them, but i don't like feeling pressured to talk about them. tired boobs are tired, just like in real life. if i don't post on wednesday, will you still like me? if you don't, does it matter? if i get X number of hits today, what exactly does that change? i don't blog for numbers, but i do watch the numbers, i can't help myself.
i am human. i'm a person out here, writing just to you.
winter always gets me down. i need to get my feet back under me because we've got months of cold left to go. i want to tell you things just because i like telling you. i want to write stories because i like to tell stories. i'm going to blogher for real this year, i've already bought my ticket. because i love doing this and i love you.
and because i'm going to be motherfucking famous, of course.
here's to 2011.
January 4, 2011
the top 5 ways this is going to be the most meta post ever
boohoo sad face emotionalism|day one|i'm a moron|teh internets|thinking|this is getting kinda serious|