November 2005 Archives
Realization of Audience
I’m not the sort of person to assume that people find anything that I do acceptable. “Insecure” is the only word to describe it, though I’ve been told that “neurotic” comes close sometimes. When I write a specific piece for a specific purpose, I imagine it being read by people who will appreciate the piece, but forget the author.
With this blog, I sent out an email when I started it. All of my friends and family got a copy, as well as a few business associates. It’s searchable through Google and Blogger, and I’ve linked to it on my main website. All of these different methods aside, I was still certain that the only person who read it was The Best Friend, who is a champion at showing his support of the silliest little ventures. No one else ever bothered to comment on any of it, that’s for sure. (Spam bots don’t count!)
Then I got a surprise. Within the past few weeks, several of my other good friends and a couple members of my family all mentioned this venue to me in their own special little ways. Yikes!
That’s why my last post was a tad different. Imagine finding out that the people you thought shrugged you off actually put some effort into keeping tabs on you. Shocking. I’d been using this as a journal, and I had gotten it into my mind that no one read it, so why should I worry about anything I say? That bit me back. I guess a certain bit of news got posted here before Dear Husband got around to spreading that same news himself, and he got into trouble. Hence, I also got into trouble.
OK, so here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to suck it up and keep going just how I’ve been going. I’ve been trying to provide an inside view into what I think about my writing and the process of writing. It isn’t exactly Carrie Bradshaw material, but it means being honest and writing just how I have been. If someone out there takes issue with something I’ve posted, listed or noted then post a response or email me. It’s happened at least once now, and in that case we reached a mutual agreeable solution. You never know what could happen.
Holiday Rant
At the beginning of every holiday season, women all over the world are slapped square in the face with the memories of “Mom’s Christmas.” We say to ourselves, “I must host the perfect party. I must bake 10 million cookies. I must string popcorn and cranberries. I must … I must … I must.” Many of us only feel these deep, domestic tuggings around the holidays and spend the
rest of the year building healthy careers and hobbies that don’t revolve around the fabric department of Walmart.
Worse still, this Holiday Fever is remarkably feminine. Men rarely show signs of needing to string the exterior twinkle lights in geometrically perfect displays “just like Dad did.” Nor do they hike miles into the forest to cut the perfect tree. Why, just last year, my dear husband told me that he saw no reason to have a tree at all.
What stirs us to become the perfect Donna Reed and Martha Stewart pictures of domesticity at this season? Even our feminist mothers drop the burden of liberation at this time to dig out the sugar cookie recipe that great-great-great-grandmother brought with her from the old country. Is it because the concentration of tradition is so high, or are we drugged by the memories of bygone Holidays?
Whatever the cause, the time has come for us to band together and say “Tradition be damned!” Cut corners, ladies. Buy cookie scented candles and set out store-bought cookies on that pretty serving tray. Use cute little gift bags with a fluff of tissue at the top – no one will mind if they don’t have perfectly wrapped and bedecked gifts for once. Shrug off the need for homemade
perfection. In this day of low-fat butter, flame-shaped light bulbs, and botox, creating the illusion of a good old Christmas should be more than good enough.
This year, we shall triumph. We shall make it to New Year’s Eve with our sanity basically intact and our families will never know the difference.
Go for it! You’ve earned it!
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to hand address 100 Holiday cards (with personal messeges) so I can get them in the mail on Black Friday. Thank you for your time.
Oh Just Never Mind
Well shit.
Sorry guys. I got distracted. Things around here haven’t been conducive to creative thought recently, and I’ve had a lot on my mind other than writing a book that I wouldn’t get paid for.
I found out Oct. 27th that I was pregnant. I found out Oct. 31st that I only had a 50/50 chance of staying pregnant. I miscarried on Nov. 8.5 and had emergency surgery on Nov 9. Now I’m not even at home. I’m in Denver trying like hell to get an office set up that will let me work my day-job while I recover from all of this.
I’m sorry. Maybe I’m not devoted enough, but I feel terrible and the last thing I want to think about is working under this kind of deadline.
So sue me.
