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402 days. 402 (plus or minus… mostly minus) posts.

Tag: blogging

Day 125: It’s Time

It’s time for many, many things. For spring, for gay people to be able to marry each other, for everyone to stop using plastic grocery bags and get a couple nice reusable ones (I mean, really…. it’s so easy), etc.

After approximately 47 days of thought, it’s also time for me to cut back on blogging. I hate the encroaching notion that I may have to send crappy content into the world just to follow my own blog-every-day rule. So, I’m changing the rule.

Part of me (most of me, really) views cutting back as a failure. I didn’t even make it halfway to 402 days.

Another, much, much smaller part of me views this for what it really is—a shift in priorities. When I started 402, I had just quit my full-time job to pursue self-employment. I wanted to write, so write I did.

Now, 125 days later, I’m up to my ears in contract work that I love, my friends all have adorable babies and puppies that I want to go visit, and I was accepted into the cast of a amazing show that goes up in June. We start intensive rehearsals in a couple of weeks, and I should probably focus on being a happy and sane employee, cast member, friend and human being.

(My life is not all sunshine and roses—I did lose a mitten yesterday.)

All this is not to say I’m quitting the blog. I’m just quitting the every day-ness of it. There are so many incredibly interesting people and ideas in the world, I won’t be able to stay away for more than a couple of days between posts. Rest assured that I will still flood your email inbox and Facebook feed.

For now, enjoy a beautiful weekend with someone (or a few people) you really like being around. Share some hugs. Punch some shoulders (lovingly).

See you in a few days.

Day 90: She’s Funny

I started dating a guy (not from the Internet, although I do think he would appreciate my burning gingerbread house profile picture) who likes reading my blogs out loud to me. It’s a sweet but strange experience that makes me painfully aware of my tendency to use awkwardly long lists and excessive qualifiers.

A couple of evenings ago, he read aloud to me while I sat on the couch and tried to concentrate on a riveting episode of Chopped. In response to my squirming and grumbling, he amicably switched to reading someone else’s blog out loud. I liked that much better until he laughed and said, “She’s funny!”

In general, I don’t feel necessarily competitive (I was more of a “social athlete” in college), but I did feel a little “Oh-no-she-isn’t” twinge kick an extra beat into my heart. Three funny blogs in, I asked him to please go back to reading mine out loud instead.

Days later, I’m trying to figure out what stirred in me. Was it blog envy? Some kind of primal urge to mark my digital territory? Could I have been jealous of her humor prowess?

One of the wonderful things about blogging is that everyone can do it, regardless of how “good” they are. Any 13-year-old with public library access and a dash of tenacity can scoop up some online earth to call their own. So, I’ve always been comfortable knowing there are bloggers out there who are funnier, smarter, deeper, more cultured and more well-read than I am (even some of those 13-year-olds). They challenge the rest of us to be better writers.

As this post is read aloud to me, I’ll listen quietly and dig deep into my soul to source the cause of my discomfort. I’ll also try to use more metaphors.