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.
- Chicks who do it for me
- Lose Weight Fast with the Heartbreak Diet!
- Margaritas, Weed, and Slut Signals
- epic existential post just in time for that arbitrary changing of the calendar which I so love
- Public Service Announcement
- Horrifying Shit on Pinterest: Slut Shaming E-Cards
- Animal Monster Bird Squawk Dinosaur Creature
- My Doctors Always Suck, otherwise entitled Why I Hate Kaiser
- Sexy Saturdays: Slutty Saturday
- Homesickness, Anxiety, and Other Ailments