Quit writing so you can keep writing

Today I am so honored to be guest posting over at The Red Dress Club. Really, so honored.

I'm writing about writing. How much better does it get than that?

Please go check out my post and I'd truly appreciate your comments over there.

Blogger is an asshole, but I love him anyway

You WordPress people. Oh you. I love you. Usually.

I generally enjoy your blogs, but not because they're on WP. Because I enjoy the content and your unique spaces.

I hate when there's no easily navigable way to find a previous post. That sucks.

And I use WordPress over at Sprocket Ink.

I don't hate it.

I struggle with the photo manager there, though, and we all know how important photo managing is.

But I do hate the self righteousness that some WordPress users seem to get as their gift with purchase. As if WordPress is the be all end all of blogging.  

Why do I say this? I am, *sigh*, considering a move to WordPress.

I do not come by this lightly and I have been very, very happy at Blogger. Blogger has, over the last two years, been very, very good to me.

That is until Blogger crashed for what felt like two millenia and stole some of my images (luckily most of my photos are hosted on Flickr) and a crap-ton of my comments.

That asshole Blogger is making it really hard to stay faithful.

But I do like Blogger even still. And leaving him would be difficult.

I like my layout which I customized myself. I dread re-designing because when the hell would I have the time?

I dread moving my readers over. Every blogger worries about the loss of readers who've been subscribing for years when you move your blog. It's daunting.

And then there's the comments. I would lose all of my comments, which is just...just...awful! The comments are the very best part of this blog. The community that happens here is my very favorite part of blogging.

Plus, it bears repeating, when the hell would I make the move? I barely have time to write these days and I rarely even get to comment on all my fave blogs. Those bloggers must think I died.

But I would really like a better way to respond to comments (and I love that WP makes that easy) and I would love a better domain.

How to the ever, I haven't decided yet.

And I don't want any one of you WP people to preach at me to move or to rave about your god the WordPress. I know you love it. I've heard you.

I don't need you to help me decide. I'll do that on my own in due time.

But if you have any tips about what you did when you made a move from Blogger to WP, any pitfalls, mistakes, success stories? That is always welcome.

*sigh*

We'll see.

Random Thoughts of a Crazy Lady

Random Thoughts are BACK! Did you miss my rambling brilliant brain? I know you did. But don't worry, punkins, I'm here for you.

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I'm all moved in to my new casa. And can I just tell you? Moving is a motherfucking bitch. I have moved...hold on...let me count...yeah I don't even know how many times. Too many. Too damn many. Maybe I'm just nomadic. Maybe it's because I lived my first 18 years (excluding the first couple of months) in the same ramshackle house.

Either way, I move. A lot.

And it sucketh. I will spare you the madness of the day, the unexpected hiccups, the annoyingness. But I will say that my friends are the bestest of the bestest and showed up wearing bells (or something) and saved the day and moved my ass! Seriously. I have awesome friends.

Anyway, I'm all moved in and because I worked hard all weekend, I didn't take as much care of myself as I normally would or even intended to. I got insanely dehydrated and piling that on top of normal moving soreness, I felt insanely shitty last night. Bad Andy.

But I've been guzzling water and electrolyetes for a day and a half and I'm just starting to feel better.

BUT! I love my new place and my new roomies and the cats aren't quite so sure, but I know they'll come around.

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It is big pimpin' time! I've haven't pimped friends' blogs in a long time, which is entirely too lazy and/or selfish of me. So hopefully I can redeem myself a little karmically today.

Both these bloggers are real life friends and so I get a little extra special thrill pimping them out.

Firstly, you must must must go read my friend Coco at Coco McKown Photography. Coco is an insanely amazing photographer in Southern California (tell your friends!), but she's also one of the funniest ladies I have ever known. Ever. Ev-er. I even wrote a post about her once which I won't link to because I'm feeling lazy to go search for it. Just know that half the movie quotes I put on here are just for her.

The second is actually someone ya'll here on the blog also know, at least if you've been reading for quite a while, buuuuut, I don't think I'll tell you who. Because it's much too delicious to make you figure it out. Anyvajazzle, Aaron at Hiking as Homotopy writes an entirely too smart (seriously, some of it goes over my head and I'm freaking brilliant.) blog in which he flays up his life and foibles and observations in an incredibly honest and raw way. Methinks you will likey.

Pimped. Out.

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So I don't want to talk about work because I do want to keep my job and I don't think it's appropriate to discuss the details of my professional environment. Ya dig?

But I will say this: If you fill out forms, some of the information just might be important. Therefore, you might want to consider using neat handwriting. Like, if it's an illegible number in your address, that might not be the end of the world. But, if it's something important like, say, your social security number, and someone has to read that shit, you don't want that messed up!

And look, I get it. I have awful handwriting. I have the handwriting of the terrorist pirate on death row. But on forms, at least with the important info, I try my best to write neatly.

Because that crap is important.

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It's such a shame that no one uses adverbs anymore. And I catch myself doing it to, using an adjective to describe a verb. But that is wrong! Wrong.

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This is magiaclly delicious (even with the copious misspellings) and oh so not safe for work:

All Annoyed

 For some reason, I'm all annoyed at my blog right now. Annoyed at its existence.

I know why but I don't know why. Blerg.

My blog has always been my safe space to just be me. So when life gets crazy, usually I find solace in this space.

Right now? I'm swamped. I've got my new job (which I'm loooooving!), but still have my freelance gig which should end mid May. Plus I've got Sprocket Ink and blogging AND I'm moving.

That's a lot of balls in the air.

Snicker.

I am one busy chiquita. Top that off with Jeté got sick last week (turns out a bit of toxic poising. long story. she's ok now) and I've been exhausted. And I've been trying to date. But I'll get to that in a minute.

The thing is: except for my furbaby getting sick, I like each of those elements and don't want to be doing anything else. I like the nice double paycheck I have going right now. I love love love Sprocket Ink. And I love my blog. I do. It's the place I've cultivated for myself and I love sharing it with you all.

But it's the last place I want to be right now. I look around me at all I have to do and I sneer at my blog with utter irritation. I don't want to respond to comments (which is usually one of my fave parts of blogging). I don't want to write (but am making myself right now. hello, therapy!). I just want it to be in a coma for a while so I can ignore it or something. Not that if a person I loved was in a coma I'd ignore him or her. But if my blog would just shut up for a while, maybe I could gather my thoughts.

How to the ever loving ever, the last thing I want is my blog to suffer, especially if I'm writing somewhere else. I get SO annoyed at bloggers that get a second writing gig and abandon their blogs. I read their other writing because I loved their blogs first. Our blogs are we we begin. Readers connect through the blogs. The rest is a bonus, I feel.

First and foremost, I want my blog to remain where I express myself and connect with my readers.

And at the end of the day, I want to be a writer. My paychecks are just what pay the bills. I'll never give up writing.

But something has to give. So I'm looking at my social life first. Right now? I just don't have time to "date." Have sex? Yeah I could make time for that. But all the wooing and connecting and posturing that comes with the beginnings of a relationship? Can't do it now. I just can't fit it in.

And yes, I'm a little schizo when it comes to what I want romantically. Right this moment, I just want casual. If I were already in a committed relationship, that would be great. We'd have routines and be able to help each other. I'd love support from a someone.

But it's so much goddamn work at the beginning and I just don't have it in me.

And if I met the most wonderfullest someone that I just knew I'd want to pursue, I guess I'd make it work. But what I'm looking for (or passively not looking) is casual. 

So I went on a first date a week or so ago. It was fine. He was cool. VERY good looking. But then I got sick last weekend (serious. I was down for the count.) and then I started the new job. Needless to say, I haven't been available. And this dude is turning out to be kinda needy. Like majorly high maintenance. And trying WAY too hard. And I'm finding myself totally turned off.

Like, there's being nice and being yourself and all that good stuff. But when someone tries too hard and gets all needy (especially at the beginning), I can't deal. For one, you're not being yourself. Just relax and see what happens yo! It's not the end of the world. Two, I don't need needy. I don't need codependent. I am fiercely independent, almost unhealthily so. I can't deal with someone who's not at least somewhat like that.

So I think I'm over this dude. Too high maintenance. 

*sigh*

Back to blogging. (sorry this post is so rambling)

Like I said, I don't necessarily want to neglect Le Blog, but I may neglect it a little. Just until I've moved or I am down to only one job.

Maybe I won't post every single day and take a day off here and there. Taking Saturdays off has been completely wonderful so I don't doubt a blog sick day here and there would feel awesome.

I'll also maybe write a teensy bit less and share more photos. You love the photos yes?

I'm also giving up one day at Sprocket Ink. Sucks but I can't post three days a week there and neglect my blog first. Ya KNOW?

Lastly, I'll still do my best to respond to comments, but probably won't always respond individually. At least for a while.

Yikes. And I move in two weeks and have just begun to pack. Wish me luck!

keeping up with The Blogs

Did you hear? Did you hear? Didja? Didja? Didja?

Didja?

I won!

Remember those blogging awards I begged you to nominate me for? And then cajoled you to vote for me? And cajoled? And cajoled?

The Studio 30 + Boomerang Awards?

I won! ME! I WON!

Best Photo Blog, to be specific.

Which, I have to tell you, makes me grin from my lips to my panties. I don't know why I needed an award to validate me, but I did. I know you understand. It doesn't just mean I have readers who care enough to vote for me or that I have enough people who think enough of this crazy space of mine to actually beat out the competition (SUCK IT! YEAH! I'm so gracious.), but that I'm finally proving myself as a real photographer too.

Because here's the thing about being an artist of some kind: it's often hard to remember you're part of that world when you don't get paid for it. If you're a writer, photographer, whatever, and you don't get paid to do it? You forget that you're still an artist with or without a monetary validation.

Which is such an American perspective. But I'm working on losing that.

Anyway, thank you so much for voting for me! You guys are truly the bestest of the bestest. And my most sincereliest congratulations to the other winners and finalists! Some of my good friends and fave blogs were recognized and they truly deserved it.

It kinda works out that I has this post scheduled for today too. Just when I am honored for my blog, I whine about blogging. Can't please me, eh?

Here's the thing about blogging: it's hard work.

I never intended to be "A Blogger." I don't say that with any derision, but when I started blogging, I had a more-than-full-time job and I really just wanted to write. I didn't keep it private, but I didn't anticipate the bloggy world I'm in today. I just didn't.

There was no way to foresee it. I worked in social media prior to blogging, sure. And I read a handful of blogs. When I set up my blog, I did it as I would for any company I would promote. I set up search functions and designed my first masthead. But I had no clue how I would generate any significant traffic or that I even wanted to generate much traffic.

I knew my friends were reading, but being butts about commenting. My first smart move was my Facebook fan page which I forced my friends to use if they wanted to keep reading and which told me which of my pals had been lurking. I'm evil like that.

Plus I'd been on twitter for some time. I'd forced myself on to keep in the social media loop, but sans anything of value to promote, hadn't gotten much out of it other than gossiping with work friends without our coworkers on FB finding out. See: evil.

Then I discovered the other bloggers. Yes, there were others. Many others, I found out. And they were kind and welcoming and shared their advice and their readership. They weren't competitive; in fact, they were eager to share and help. They commented on my blog. They promoted me on the Twitter. They liked my FB page. And they asked me to guest post.

And I did the same in return.

I found that bloggers are really gangbusters at networking. Really and truly. Bloggers should be teaching college students how to network, because they really do it best.

It all seemed so idyllic in the beginning.

I should really rephrase that, because it makes it sound like things have gone up in smoke and that's not the case. But I have suffered a serious case of blogging burn out.

What I didn't anticipate is that the blogging itself is not the hardest part. Creating content? Not the hardest part. Though it is consuming. Balancing irl work, looking for more work, generating content, managing my Etsy shop, etc, all while trying to have a life and relax is time consuming!

But not the hardest part. The hardest part is keeping up with The Blogs.

The more you network, the more blogs there are to read. And comment on. You want to read each one too and leave a comment. And you want that comment to have substance because you read that one BlogHer article about how bloggers hate the comments which just compliment them. It wouldn't be a chore if there weren't so many, except there's no way to cut. Because you genuinely enjoy and appreciate and want to support each and every one.

But there are just not enough minutes in the day! It's literally (not figuratively) impossible to do it all.

And that doesn't even count time on twitter, trying to be witty, keeping your followers laughing, and networking with bloggers. You don't remember the last #wineparty you had time or energy to visit even though it's a great joy when you do.

So where's the balance?

First thing: I disconnected from Twitter a bit. I still use it to promote my blog and Etsy, etc, and I still wander on in the morning and before I go to bed. And I'll still text funny tweets I think of in the moment, but I don't log onto The Twitters as much. Because while I do not think there's anything wrong with staying on all day if you can, it was eating up my energy.

As a result, many of the Favstar whores have stopped following me because I'm not validating their neediness all the time, but truthfully? I don't miss them much and I lost most of them when my Twitter went private anyway. And I doubt these people read my blog anyway. They just want to star fuck. If you don't know what any of the last paragraph meant, just skip it. I don't have the energy to explain. You're not missing much anyway.

After that, I cleaned out my twitter. I've found that keeping my following list under 400 is manageable. Keep in mind, not all 400 are on at the same time. Between time zones and busy schedules, that's a number I can work around and not lose the content from my good friends whom I enjoy. I'm getting close to 400 again, so Mama may need to make another cut. WATCH OUT!

Next? I gave myself a break from commenting. I don't comment on every post I read and I'M SO SORRY! Really though, I doubt every one of my blogging friends comment on every one of my posts. In fact, I know they don't. So I need to give my perfectionist ass a break.

I also don't worry about my comment being witty or substantive every single time. If I have to think too hard, I'm doing it wrong. It's just a comment and if you don't appreciate my comment, you're a goddamn snob anyways. If I feel moved to comment and that comment is just a "Great Post!" That's what you're getting. Hope that's okay. And don't be jealous of the comments I leave that are witty. My wit has a mind of its own and isn't always reliable, but sometimes it surprises even me.

Then? I cleaned out my reader. If I hardly find myself wandering over to a certain blog or reading any posts, time to stop sparing feelings. Snip snip it's gone. That cluttered reader was too overwhelming.

But then, I stopped reading each post of every blog I have in my reader. This one was the hardest. It truly was. Not only do I want to support each blog that I choose to put in my reader, but I do it because I actually like the blog! I want to read it. But I just don't have the time. So if I miss a few, I don't beat myself up and just read the newer posts. Or if a post seems like it wasn't directed at my type, etc, I'll just skip it. No one wants to be read out of obligation anyway right? Right.

Lastly, I'm not really taking on any new blogs. I know that sounds incredibly snobby. And the occasional new blog which wows me does slip through. But just like a company that is saturated with employees, I'm saturated with blogs to read. Any more and I just won't be able to spend any QT with the blogs I'm already loyal to.

However, I can still support your blog in other ways! Ask me to guest post for you or ask to post on Sexy Saturdays. Or I'm sure we can come up with other ways to pimp you out, like on my FB page or Twitter. I just love pimping.

What do you do to keep your blogging sanity? Do you always comment? How many blogs do you read?

why I do what I do when I do what I do

I've tackled this question before, but it deserves my attention again. Why do I blog? Why?

One of the first bloggers I connected with here on the grand Internet and whose blog I just adore in my panties is my Aunt Becky of Mommy Wants Vodka. She tackled the topic today so go read her post and brilliant as usual argument.

Here is why I do what I do when I do what I do (wait, what?):

I blog to write.

Pure and simple.

I like to write. I don't write stories or novels, but I like to download. Sometimes it's to make myself laugh (and possibly others laugh as well) and sometimes it's to be real, to put the real me into words. So first and foremost, I write for me. For the words swirling in ma tete.

But what I hadn't anticipated was the commitment I would feel to my blog. Sexy Man (I guess that's his nickname now since that's what I just typed) asked me the other day if my blog was my baby. My immediate response was, "NO!" Because that's just ludicrous right? If I had a baby, it would be all cooey and poopy and cuddly and spitupy. My blog isn't like that. Except it kind of is. My blog is my baby.

I don't mean I'm committed to it because I'm committed to my readers (though I lurve you guys in my panties). I mean that I'm committed to the blog itself, to what it means, to be completely real and authentic out of respect for the blog.

One of my foibles is that I have this performative nature and I can laugh off a situation or put on a smile when things aren't okay. Just to get through. But not with my blog. I'm always honest to the blog. If I find something funny, it goes in the blog. If I feel snarky, my post is full of snark. If I'm a hot mess and need to make fun of myself, I make a vlog or post an unattractive photo. If I'm shitting rainbows and feeling on top of the world, I shit rainbows and unicorns all over the blog until my readers are bleeding fucking sparkles. And if I need to get real and raw and expose my pain, I let it out on the blog.

My blog is my all humiliation network.

It's a plethora of the crass, the mortifying, the overshare. My blog takes TMI to a whole new level.

Sometimes I am surprised at how it's allowed me to connect with you guys. And sometimes I feel better simply for the act of writing.

And sure, I'd love for my blog to lead to other gigs. I'm honored when I'm asked to guest post or collaborate on an e-book or an editor writes me about a possible writing opportunity. I'd love to find avenues of income because I do this amazing thing called blogging. But at the end of the day, I've made about 10 smackers on my blog this year. I don't do it because there's money in it.

I do it because it's all me out there on the grand Internet just being me and exposing myself raw and real.

And THAT? Keeps me honest. And THAT? Is why my blog is my baby.

I blog therefore I am

Why do I blog? That question seems to be thrown at me lately. From friends, from you, Internet, from the universe, from my soul. Why do I blog?

I blog because I can. Because I'm a writer. Because the words spew forth and I must send them into the Internetverse where they lose their potency (I'm very Foucault). Sometimes I blog because my heart is aching and I must take that pain and excise it into words. It's analgesic in the form of non-fiction. Sometimes I blog out of boredom or happiness or in an effort to share my art. But mostly I blog to be funny. I find the world insanely hilarious. The tiniest and mundane and painful things are uproariously funny to me and I must share that laughter with those of you who dare to laugh with me.

It's funny, I suppose, how the universe works.

A dear friend of mine expressed to me yesterday her concern that I maybe was writing about her relationship in my blog (which, I sometimes do, but always in a straightforward way so there is no confusion and certainly sans judgement). And I very poorly tried to explain that I wasn't (to be fair, she'd caught me off guard), but I don't think I made myself clear (another reason I blog: I'm much better in writing than in person). And I'm worried her feelings are still a little sore. Maybe because I can be so caustic and snarky in my blog, it's not clear what a softy I am. I stayed awake most of last night worried I'd hurt feelings.

But the fact of the matter is, I would never, ever passive aggressively try to jab at my friends through my blog. I would never assume to hint about something serious through my blog, not something serious about someone else anyway (but my life is fair game). And if something about my friends bothered me, I certainly would never assume to change their behavior through my blog, or in any way, for that matter. It's none of my damn business. My blog is not a tactic or a device or a weapon to control the world at my whim. I would never assume that.

I wasn't even going to write about this. I was going to shove it down to the place of my psyche that causes headaches and nausea and spew it out at therapy (because that's healthy). But I read one of the most insightful blogs this morning at No Points for Style and it was so appropriate for this situation I felt so totally moved to write. I couldn't help myself. It just happened. Like when you hear music and instinctively bob your head, that's how much I needed to write. Let me quote:

"Yeah, well, when it comes to storytelling, all the facts are in the eye of the beholder and in the words of the storyteller."

And that's how I feel entirely. I write about little things that bug me or that I find amusing and I multiply them outrageously for comedic intent. I do. The world as I see it has endless mocking opportunity and I take advantage of that. Ridiculous people and situations are all blog fodder. As is my life. This is my life and therefore I give myself the freedom to flay my personal insecurities and foibles and emotions and scars up for devouring by the Internet. And, to quote No Points for Style again:

"We can't tell our own stories without telling bits and parts of other people’s stories, but be clear: the truth belongs to the storyteller."


My truth is snarky. And biting. And acerbic. It is. And so maybe it's hard to see where I draw my ethical line. It's my story and I tell it in a certain style and so to spare my friendships and relationships, I try to avoid flaying up their lives as much as possible. I may mention a friend's name in conjunction with a story to give it context, for sure. And I'd like to think the stories I tell about my friends are complimentary. My friends are a part of my life and I would not be able to tell my stories fully if I left them out. It wouldn't be the truth. But while I welcome you, Internet, to laugh with me, at me, after me, beside me, whatever, it would be wrong of me to invite you to laugh at my friends.
 
And so, dear friend, if you are reading this (which you'd better, biotch) please know this is my way of telling the truth. We're not perfect and we both get on each other's nerves sometimes. Sometimes you make me throw up a little (But I promise to tell you right then. You can even check my breath.). But I would never use my blog as a weapon against you or try to manipulate you through my writing or offer up your life for my comedic gains. When I want to do that, I'll just link to your blog and let you make fun of yourself, as it's supposed to be.

Because laughing is what it's all about.