Today I struggle.  My goal, as previously stated, is to write at least one blog post a week, and today is the deadline.  I never worked well with deadlines.  I remember being in high school and frantically writing papers at the last minute in the computer room during lunch.  I remember checking books out from the library the night before the report was due.  Creative writing was always the easiest, because I could always just make something up on the spot.  I’m a fast learner, and I think that’s why I always waited until the last minute.  Also, I did not enjoy school.  I wanted to learn at a different pace than the one I was being taught.  Some topics I was already well versed in and felt bored with.  Others I struggled with and needed more time to work on.  The structure of my schooling did not really allow for this, as you were expected to learn at the same rate and in the same way as your peers.  Part of the reason I left college was because I had hoped it would be different somehow but found that it really wasn’t.  I’m just not a traditional learner, and once I figured that out, life became a lot easier.

So here I ramble, because I have given myself a deadline and I am desperate to keep it, if only for myself.   And of course, I find myself writing about writing, which is one of my three favorite topics along with religion and theater.   I asked my husband what I should blog about and he replied that I should write about not knowing what to write.  Oh, Mark, you sweet, innocent little peach.  I write about that on a daily basis.

And now, it is Saturday.  I started this post on Friday of course, trying to meet my deadline and ultimately failing.  I had little time yesterday as I had a test run for a job and went to my friend’s sex toy party, which would probably make a good blog entry, but frankly, I’m just not that kind of girl.  So last night at precisely 12:06am I looked at my clock and sighed.  The time had come and gone.  As expected, I missed my deadline.

However, I got the job.  So that was nice.

PS  If there are any members of the WordPress family reading this, do you ever get a bunch of spam followers?  Lately I’ve gotten several email followers that all have a string of letters at an address.  Thoughts?

If my first blog were a baby, it would be graduating high school this year.

The other day I ended up in my old Livejournal.  I was looking for the lyrics to a particular song, and ended up drowning in the past instead.  First of all, I have a steadfast belief that everything I write is garbage and no one wants to read it.  This may be the effects of a lifetime of Major Depressive Disorder, or it may be my own deep-seated fears about inclusion.  Either way, it’s all trash in my opinion., Even the things I’ve written that people have told me they loved. Sorry, I don’t.  I’m glad you do, but for some reason I am always striving for improvement. Nothing I write is ever finished. Which may be why blogging is so good for me.  It’s never really finished.

Take my Livejournal, started October 1st 2001, when I was such a fresh-faced 19-year-old young’un that I was concerned with the French quiz I had coming up that day, and whether or not Kevin (my brother from another mother) and I were going to a party that weekend.  How quaint this seems compared to life now, with its concerns like how the rent is going to be paid and what about the bills and oh God let the tires hold out on the car for the rest of winter…not to mention the existential crises such as am I doing what I want with my life and who am I as a person?  Oh, I would kill for a French quiz and a weekend party right now.

My writing then was not as good as it is now, despite the fact that I think everything I write is refuse.  It was interesting to see those improvements over the years. It should be noted the last post in my journal is from April of 2014.  This journal pretty much chronicles my 20s. There’s probably a hell of a book in there. But that would mean I would have to read all the absolute crap I have written over a 13 year time span.

When I started my blogging journey on WordPress, I decided to stray away from things like what I did on the weekend, song lyrics I enjoy, and personality quizzes.  My LJ is filled with them. I decided that the blog on WordPress would be the face I presented to the world, while my LJ would serve its purpose as a more personal account of my life.  Thing is, I really like when people read my stuff, even if I think it’s rubbish. I found that by posting on a variety of topics I was attaining readers, not just the handful of people that knew about my LJ.  That attracted me to WordPress, and is why I stuck with it when I wanted to revamp my blog earlier this year.

Thing is, it’s hard to come up with topics that aren’t personal, and it often seems trite to write about the minutiae of daily life.. Here’s an example.  In my old blog, I would have written about my weekend:

On Friday, the kids came over and I went grocery shopping and to the eye doctor.  On Saturday, the kids were here, and G came to play with them. On Sunday, the kids went home and Mark had a migraine.  

See?  Super entertaining.  I bet you are thrilled to know that information about my exciting life.  Now, I know that life is different now than it was at 20, of course (though I’m married to the guy I was dating at 20, so maybe not all that different,) but I just don’t have the fun nights and wild weekends to write about anymore.  I starve for topics. I mean, look! I’m literally blogging about blogging right now!

If I find anything re-postable during my walk down Livejournal lane, I hope to blog it here.  Though it’s more likely I’ll just have an emotional few hours laughing and crying at the same time.  Because that’s pretty much what your 20s are about.

No Phone Books in 2018

I don’t go in for resolutions.  For several years, I pledged each New Years to not eat any phone books, which was an inside joke amongst my friends, though I can’t remember where it started.  This was the perfect resolution, however.  I have never eaten a phone book, nor do I plan to, especially with the advent of smartphones which has made the actual physical phone book obsolete.  I know this because my neighbor and I have left ours on the front porch for several months, watching them disappear under the snow.   I have, of course, been able to avoid going downstairs and picking one up for a midday snack.  This makes me feel empowered, like I accomplished something.  Which is all people really want to get out of a new years resolution anyway.

However, this year, I am making three resolutions, against my better judgement.  They aren’t so much resolutions, though, as they are rules for not dying.  For instance, I intend to quit smoking.  I intend to get in better shape.  I intend to write more.

Now, I am always full of good intentions, but they don’t always come to fruition.  I am burdened with a serotonin imbalance, and the medication that goes with such things.  These two influences often make getting to the gym impossible, having a cigarette necessary, and writing so much as a poem unbearable.  I have decided, however, and with the help of some medication adjustments, to rail against the voice in my head telling me to shut up and sit on the couch.  I have spent the past two years begin incredibly sick, and I am done.  I have decided that the only thing that ever kept me together was writing, and so, I return to my old friend, the blog, to pound out the thoughts, feelings, and experiences that have been trapped inside a lonely and frightened mind for too long.  Remember when you wrote plays, self?  Remember the 17 OTHER blogs?  Remember your 500+ poems, or that short story anthology, or that half a novel that sits stagnant in a document folder somewhere waiting to be dusted off and rewritten?  You had such plans, Me.  And here you are, letting your stupid malfunctioning brain get the better of you again?  Oh, hell no.

So I’m going to write about not smoking, and getting in shape, and being sick, and being depressed….and my husband, and my step-kids, and my friends, and my family, and all the funny and wonderful and ridiculous nonsense that I see and hear on a regular basis.  Maybe quitting smoking will be hard, maybe getting in shape will take time, but writing is something I can do now.  Writing is going to get me through the hard parts, as it always has in the past.

At the very least, one year from now, I can look back and think “Well, at least I didn’t eat any phone books.”


PS-If interested, my past blog posts can be found HERE.