Tag Archives: writing

What I’ve Learned from Blogging

Posted on March 25, 2013 | 59 Comments

Someone asked me how long I’ve been blogging, and just like when asked what my natural hair color is, I kind of blanked out. But long story short, I would say three or four years.

Over that time I’ve come to learn certain things, like I rarely make a long story short and how to make a picture bigger than a thumbnail (this took two years, people.) And while I know it’s boring to write about blogging, I thought I would share a few things I’ve learned (the first one evidently being I can write about whatever I want to.)

WHAT I’VE LEARNED FROM BLOGGING

Why I Write

I write because I have to. It gets me out of my head and makes me feel productive and creative and useful. When I feel I have nothing to say, I get pissy. When I get on a roll, I get almost annoyingly cheerful. I feel emotion, which is rare, and that’s how I know it’s important to me.

I Can Be Funny

I’ve learned it’s okay to be confident and I think I can be pretty funny. While that will never lead to fame and fortune, I like knowing I make someone laugh or think—even if it’s only my mom. Hi, Mom!

People Are Awesome

I can connect with a bazillion awesome people that I would never have met otherwise, and honestly, you people save my life. I never really thought I “needed” people, but I do. And to those who say “online friends” aren’t real, I will counter with the fact that if cyber bullying can and does exist, so can cyber connections.

So there.

You Can Click Away

Not everyone will like you and you won’t like everyone else. You don’t have to tell everyone all your opinions. People will disappoint you. Their blogs will change, they will sell out or maybe you’ll just grow apart. Don’t take it personally, and don’t begrudge them for choosing their path—even if that path is really annoying and lame.

Social Media Can Rock

On one hand, it’s awesome because you can connect with the bazillion awesome people I mentioned above. When I promote a post, it’s not for validation—it’s because I think you might like it and I want to share. And I love my blog’s Facebook page and comments because people interact and make me laugh or think. Muah! Big cyber air kiss!

Social Media Can Suck

But on the other hand, holy hell with the requests for retweets and sharing and a constant barrage of all the things! It’s come to the point where the writing is no longer enough. Now it’s about getting read, no matter what is written, and getting tweeted, pinned, Facebooked, etc. by the greatest number of people.

The end some posts read like a totem pole with eight different icons of where you can find the blogger who is so busy writing and building a brand that they don’t have time to read your blog but be sure to read theirs, share the post and vote for them in a contest!

No thanks. I don’t understand Instagram, Redditt, etc. and YouTube has a video of a turtle eating a raspberry that I’m pretty cool with.

See “click away” point up above.

It’s a Hobby

I get that there’s a constant blogging popularity contest going on, but when it comes to aggressively pimping myself out, I’ll pass.

It would be great to be able to make a living doing something I love, but not at the expense of authenticity or what minimal sanity I have left. I read blogs I enjoy. I don’t read blogs I don’t enjoy, even if they’re “OHMYGOD the most connected blogger ever.”

At the end of the day, there are millions of blogs out there and only so many eyes to read them, with even fewer dollars to support them. If you’re in it for the money, good luck with that.

I Can Only Be Me

I can be naive. I can be vulnerable. When I can’t write I stress out a bit, but only because I want to entertain you. Or more likely because I  had to wear a “real” bra for more than five hours, which is probably the reason. Let’s be honest.

But long story short, I have issues. So do you.

I’ve learned that that’s more than okay.

Like the blog? Buy the book.

What have you learned from writing or reading blogs?

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Headlines From My House

Posted on March 21, 2013 | 31 Comments

There’s nothing like an eye-catching headline to draw you into reading a news story, right? That’s why I’m providing you with some Headlines from my House.

However, no stories are attached, only because I don’t want to incite jealousy as to how absolutely exciting my life as a swinging single gal really is.

HEADLINE NEWS

Plot to Kill Spider with Foot Foiled by Thought of Spider Guts on Foot

Brilliant Editorial Composed in Shower Vanishes Upon Turning Off Water

Glasses Thought to be Lost Found Safely on Owner’s Head

Poll Reveals Advice from Ozzy Osbourne More Reliable than from Dr. Oz

Citizen’s Arrest Nabs Perp Using “flusterated” in a Sentence

Brain of Woman Wearing OveGlove Divorces Her After She Grabs Pan with Hand Not Wearing OveGlove… Again

Creature Under Birdfeeder Thought to be Rabid Badger Revealed to be Overfed Rabbit

Campaign to Launch Acronym for ‘So Happy It’s Thursday’ Losing Momentum

Mensa Letter ‘Lost in Mail’ After Woman Finds Keys in Freezer

Study Confirms 12 Years of Life Spent Looking for Matching Tupperware Lids

Final Jeopardy Question Answered Correctly; No Witnesses

Fashion Police Arrest Woman Found on Couch, in Pajamas, Eating Garlic Hummus on Friday Night

Decapitated Cat Toy Found Behind Couch; No Plans to Remove Body

Stepdad Contracts Flu. Mom Requests 6-pack to Help Deal with Stepdad Afflicted with “Man Flu”

Owner in Contract Discussions with Dustbuster in Effort to Improve Performance

Michigan Woman, 31, Cites ‘I have to shovel again’ as Reason for Insanity. Judge Accepts Plea

Bird Found Eating Worm in the Afternoon; Myth Busted

Wanted: Body Double to Stand in at Work; Must Resemble 12-year-old-boy and Excel at Feigning Enthusiasm and Productivity

Rug Burn on Elbows Healing Nicely Week After Diving Behind Couch Upon Hearing Doorbell

Missed Connections: You had snacks

After Unsuccessful Attempts at “Tear here,” Bag of Steamable Vegetables Slated to be Opened with Teeth

Planned Productivity Delayed Due to ‘Joan and Melissa’ Marathon

Rare Triple Axel Performed After Tripping Over Cat; Cat Not Impressed

SWF Seeks Anything to Love as Much as She Loves Pesto

After Witnessing Large Number of Adults Failing to Follow Directions, Kids Given More Credit

Squirrels Picket Outside House; Demand Variety in Local Seed Offerings

Shopper Leaves Target Having Spent Less than $20; Parade Thrown in Her Honor

Writer Attempts Humor with Blog Post; Pulitzer Prize Safe for Now

Like the blog? Buy the book.

Your turn. Give me a Headline from your House.

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Shocking Plot Twists!

Posted on February 4, 2013 | 21 Comments

While I love my routines, I hate predictability when it comes to the storylines in books, TV shows and movies. If I can figure out what’s going to happen five minutes in, you’ve lost me.

So I present to you a more realistic view of some stories you might have been told.

Shocking Plot Twists and Untold Stories, Revealed!

Belle (Beauty) and the Beast split up shortly after they realize they don’t have any dishes or household products that actually work. If you will recall, theirs spend a majority of the time singing and dancing.

While entertaining at first, it soon became evident that a talking candlestick and chipped, chatty tea cup don’t do much more than provide an audience for the newlyweds as they argue about hair in the sink and the fact that Belle’s dad won’t move out.

With Yogi taking the role of the friendly picnic basket thief, Smokey the Bear was discovered to actually be the one starting a majority of forest fires. In an attempt to maintain job security, Smokey apparently felt his only inroad to fame was deceit and a penchant for arson.

If you give a mouse a cookie, he will not ask for a glass of milk, want to look in a mirror to make sure he doesn’t have a milk mustache, etc. like the story would have you believe. Instead he will try and take residence up in the pantry, crap all over and fall victim to an edible eviction at the hands of a domestic feline who can sniff out fear and fur.

As it turns out, the beautiful Rapunzel doesn’t let her hair down just for any man—she lets it down for every man. After leading the love-struck fools into her web of hair extensions and thinly-spread lies for too long, friends and family stage an intervention. However, Rapunzel instead decides to cut off her hair, sell it on eBay and try out for “The Bachelor.”

CSI Episode: No one is killed. The detectives hang in the office and play Bananagrams.

Philosophical differences between neighbors Johnny Appleseed, a kind soul who loves to plant apple trees and protect them from harm, and Paul Bunyan, a testosterone egomaniac who cuts down the trees with one swoop of his axe, land these two on Judge Judy.

It gets dirty. Johnny brings up how Paul never picks up the literal bull shit that Babe the Blue Ox leaves around. Paul counters with an argument about property lines and the tree that is actually his. Judge Judy sighs, rolls her eyes and rules in favor of Johnny because Paul wore jeans into court. Her ruling is final.

After hearing about Snow White’s brush with a necrophilia-driven Prince, an evil Queen and a life filled with cooking, cleaning and keeping house for seven “little people” while they mine for jewels and go out at night, TLC offers Snow White her own reality show.

The only requirement is that she incorporate the dwarfs and cupcakes somehow to appeal to their core demographic. She accepts and “Good Things Come in Small Packages” is a huge hit.

The Little Engine that Could, best known for optimistically chanting, “I think I can, I think I can,” could overcome every seemingly impossible task except being cited for EPA clean air violations. He thought he could, but he can’t—until he cleans up his act.

We’ll end with the first story told—Adam and Eve. However, in this instance Eve says she can’t eat the apple because there’s no proof that it’s 100 percent non-GMO organic. Adam, annoyed and exasperated with Eve—but more importantly, ravenously hungry—grabs the apple, his junk behind the strategically-placed fig leaf and chows down.

I think we know how this ends.

Like the blog? Buy the book. Save a kitten!

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‘Twas the Write Before Christmas

Posted on December 21, 2012 | 19 Comments

‘Twas the days before Christmas, and all through my place.

Not an idea was stirring to share on this space.

My stocking was hung by the chimney with care,

stocking

While I went around vacuuming up more cat hair.

That cat was all nestled up snug on the floor

With visions of world domination galore.

And then there was me, wearing what I wear best.

Yoga pants, sweatshirt…well, you know the rest.

When out from the driveway, I heard something clatter,

And turned to the window to tend to the matter.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a Lexus that made me ask, “Who the heck’s here?”

The lost-looking driver sped off in a fit,

And I knew those commercials were still full of shit.

Speaking of cars and a holiday ruse,

Those dressed up like reindeer that Santa might use?

The antlers on top and a red nose to boot,

Send mixed messages when drivers give the one-fingered salute.

“Freaking merge!” “Learn to park!” They all shout and they call!

‘Tis the season for road rage for those at the mall.

But back to the story of writing this post.

Even though all the readers are logged off, like most.

Last year I wrote a more eloquent poem,

That centered on exploits from June, our old gnome.

This year he’s tanked and refuses to eat,

Except numerous Vodka-filled candy cane treats.

I’m left on my own to come up with this stuff,

Something holiday-centered, sprinkled with fluff?

I had an idea of where things could be going,

In my head all the words just kept flowing and flowing.

But then in a twinkling, I heard in my head.

The prancing and pawing of something instead.

“Did I put back the Swiffer I used on the floors?

Of course I should check, and then clean out some drawers.

Perhaps now the shower could use a good scrub?

I’ll keep writing as soon as I clean out that tub.

And now the mirror’s streaky, so that gets cleaned, too.

What’s with my eyebrows? Let’s pluck one or two.”

My eyes looked quite tired, my hair still a mess.

My chest most resembling a flat iron press.

A shirt stained with hummus not hiding that stealth.

But I laughed when I saw it in spite of myself.

Then I remembered I wanted to bake,

There were cookies and candies I still had to make!

pretzel1

Once that was over, with treats wrapped up tight,

I had no more excuses to not sit and write.

“Okay, back to work.” I decided right then.

I resolved to see this post right through to the end.

But then laying the cursor aside of my lines,

I somehow clicked over to go back online.

To Facebook I sprang, and of course, then to Twitter.

As long as I’m there, e-mail too. (I’m no quitter.)

My train of thought suddenly derailed again,

I figured that yoga might help me feel Zen.

yogacartoon

Down dog and pigeon and side planks galore,

I couldn’t help notice a catnip-filled floor.

Out came the vacuum to suck up that stuff,

And at that point I figured enough was enough.

Clearly this poem wasn’t going that great,

A much better post would just have to then wait.

So I sprang to the couch, to the cat gave a whistle,

And away she went running like shot from a pistol.

I sighed and I shrugged and then turned on TV,

More room on the couch for little old me!

Now where was I going with this rambling spiel?

Oh yes, for you people I like a great deal:

May your holiday bring you much joy and delight,  

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

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Step By Step

Posted on November 30, 2012 | 15 Comments

I hate when I overthink stairs.

It’s not that I’m incapable of general motor skills, but sometimes I neglect to literally take it one step at a time and end up with a bruised shin or my heart in my throat when that extra step isn’t there at the bottom or top.

Please. Like you’ve never done it.

But because metaphors sound fancy and I’m nothing if not fancy—isn’t life a little like stairs? Not in the sense that it’s a pain to clean with a Swiffer, but in that it’s a series of ups and downs and overthinking the most basic things can leave you tangled up or even in pain.

Let’s explore.

I’m sure I’m the only one who has noticed, but I haven’t been sharing quite as many serious and “introspective” posts as I used to. I’ve vented to (myself and) friends about my health and exercise issues, feeling stuck with my writing and work and just life, blah, blah, blah, but I haven’t published that here.

It’s not that I’ve given up on mindfulness or that my depression has magically lifted—let me assure you I haven’t and it hasn’t—but I started to think I was dwelling on things instead of looking for ways to dig out.

When I dwell and keep saying the same things I’ve said, it leads to getting stuck in the negative, withdrawing from reality and trapping me in an endless loop of questions without sufficient answers.

I’m not saying talking and working through depression or problems is bad—the complete opposite is true—and I still plan on writing about more serious things here and there because a) I’m selfish and need the support and it helps me find some meaning in my experience and b) if someone else can find meaning as well, then that makes it all worth my while.

Plus, I’m still an introspective thinker who overshares, so there’s that.

But instead of analyzing everything, I want to notice that it is what it is and then get on with my life.

My “issues” are still glaringly there, but it doesn’t feel quite as natural to dwell on them. Maybe it’s simply avoidance, but maybe I’m just getting bored with that crap and want a new story to tell.

Lately that story is lighter and fun, at least what I publicly show, and a few twisted minds keep encouraging me. Because of this, I’ve found myself feeling a little more snarky, a little more willing to laugh and admit that some things just might make me happy—even when the joy they inspire doesn’t immediately register. 

It’s not a cure, it’s not an answer to any of the questions I have and it sure as heck isn’t helping to pay any bills, but it’s better than just feeling stuck.

And it’s most certainly a positive step forward—one that I won’t overthink.

Like the blog? Buy the book.

My next post? Shower curtain liners. Prepare to have your mind blown.

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A Thank You Note

Posted on November 15, 2012 | 28 Comments

I actually had another post ready to go, but you’ll have to wait a couple days to be mildly amused or disappointed. Why, you ask?

Because I realized it’s been almost one year since I released my humble little book, and decided to ramble reflect on the past year instead.

First of all, I want to thank each and every person who ever bought it, tweeted about it, sent me a note/picture about it or even used it as a coaster for beer. You have no idea how humbling it was when you did this, and I’m still amazed that anyone cares what I say.

But for those who don’t know the story, I didn’t self-publish this book to try and make money, as that is a laughable notion.

No, I wanted a collection of my words I could hold in my hand and give to my mom for a Christmas present. She’s my biggest fan, and I wanted to make sure that I didn’t accidentally delete my blog in a fit of frustrated rage and lose a compelling account of my Tooth Fairy campaign.

I also published it so I could share my crazy view on things and maybe make you laugh, smile or feel a bit more normal. I decided that if you invested a little bit of time and money into reading it, I would give a little bit of time and money back by donating all the profits to the local Humane Society.

You can read about all that over here, so I won’t rehash the whole thing.

All I can say is that a year later, I’m still proud I took the chance when I did. It was a lot of work, but seeing the look on my mom’s face when I gave it to her and when we got to deliver the goods to the Humane Society was priceless, as are the comments I still get today.

With that said, I can’t help but wonder what’s next.

The last year of blogging has taught me so much—about myself, about others, about writing, about life—but there are many times when I feel like maybe I’ve said everything I want to say. More often than not I’ll think, “I should blog about that!” only to realize I wrote up that post just last year.

After three years it gets hard to keep churning things out, but the reason I put pressure on myself is simply because I need something — something that makes me feel creative, makes me feel wanted, that connects me to people who feel the same way.

True, some days I want to delete the damn thing, and maybe some day that will happen. But for now, I still kind of like it and am sticking around for a bit.

And to answer the question I get once in awhile, yes, I’ve thought about doing another book. I think I’ve defined my voice and perhaps even stepped up my game since the last book came out. But I also feel like maybe that (sales) ship has sailed and I really hate self-promotion, which is kind of important with things.

Plus, I’ve already used the one picture I have for the cover on the first one, so there’s that.

Anyway, this whole long ramble is to sincerely thank you for your support this past year—not just with the book, but with the blog and with me as a person. I know readers and blogs come and go, and I am truly thankful for those who are with me today.

That’s as mushy as I get. Now it’s your turn.

Who do you think needs a thank you? I don’t care if it’s the inventor of the OveGlove (genius!) or the nice person who told you there was a fabric softener sheet sticking out of the ass of your pants. Let’s give thanks.

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It’s a Funny Thing

Posted on November 4, 2012 | 36 Comments

I’m not an easy person to be close with. There are a few quirks you have to get used to, and I’m sure I’m frustrating more times than not.

hermitnataliedee

But there are moments when I can be semi-humorous and/or introspective, and it’s been my experience that people don’t always want introspection—they want to be entertained.

I’m no exception to this rule.

While getting introspective and “deep” can be helpful, sometimes I think that writing about it all the time ends up sounding like I’m just dwelling on things.

So instead of publishing posts that make me sound like a drag, I often try to find the funny and share the posts that make me sound like a weirdo. Humor is a great distraction from things and most people like to laugh—me included—because who wouldn’t want to be happy?

But here’s where I let you in on a secret.

Sometimes when I’m at my (relative) funniest, that’s when I’m at my lowest, and each tweet, update or post is simply me grasping at sanity straws. I might be snarky, but chances are I’d rather be in bed with covers over my head pretending the day isn’t happening.

Don’t get me wrong—sometimes I’m genuinely happy with things and I’m naturally a sarcastic smartass. On those days when I’m able to write, creating something—anything—makes me happy, ridiculously happy, mostly because I feel productive and useful for at least a few minutes in time.

Then there are times I epically fail, and instead of trying to search for a laugh, I go and search for the covers. Unfortunately, those days happen much more often than I’d like to admit.

But while there is often real suffering, there is also self-created suffering. While there is often real happiness, there is also self-created happiness.

I forget this when I’m not only without a funny blog post, status update or quick quip to read or write, but also without the desire to care either way—about that, or really, anything. These are the times when I get stressed, as I simply want to be funny and LAUGH DAMMIT! Why is being happy so hard?

But as Thich Nhat Hanh once said much more eloquently than me, “Sometimes your joy is the source of your smile, but sometimes your smile can be the source of your joy.”

True, Thich my man, true.

It’s rather unrealistic to think you can be happy 100 percent of the time. That would be weird and unnatural, like how people’s faces vibrate when they try and hold in a yawn. (Just let it go, people.) And even though many of us have good lives and good opportunities, normal life isn’t easy for anyone—even those without depression.

But we can try to create small moments when things seem most bleak. We can remember that behind everyone’s smile, there might be some pain. Behind everyone’s laugh, there might be self-doubt. Behind every dark moment there has to be light, even if it’s buried under eight pounds of crap.

Where there’s humor, there’s hope.

It’s funny how those things work out.

Like the blog? Buy the book.

This post was kind of written in response to a company called The b Positive Project, a T-shirt company that has become more of a “positive movement” of sorts.  As their site states, “We know that everyone encounters tough times, but we believe that, in those moments, everyone also has the choice to ‘b Positive.’”

newlogo

They have a really cool story and they reached out to me to share something, I was honored, so you have this. Oh! And even though they offered to send me a shirt, I haven’t been compensated in any way. I just think they’re cool. But I do love T-shirts, so there’s that, too.   

If anyone else wants to send me a T-shirt, I’ll totally write you a post.  

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A Dozen Delusions

Posted on October 15, 2012 | 34 Comments

It’s very important to be honest, but we all have those little things we tell ourselves that we know probably aren’t completely accurate. I hesitate to call them “lies,” as that implies some sort of deliberate manipulation, so perhaps calling them “delusions of grandeur” would be a bit more accurate.

With that said, I have included short list of the things I tell myself without entirely believing.

A Dozen Delusions

1. I don’t need to write something down because I’ll remember it. Despite the fact I don’t have solid evidence to back this one up, I continue to employ this philosophy. So mental note—real notes work better.

2. Pushing the pedestrian crossing button at crosswalks actually makes the light change quicker. Is it magic that the little white person on the light appears 10-20 seconds after I push it or simply coincidence? I also tell my self I won’t actually say “Ped Xing”— as in “ped exing” and not “pedestrian crossing”— out loud, but I do.

pedestrian_crossing_sign_l

Why doesn’t he have any feet?

3. That I’ll be able to put a key on a key ring in less then 10 minutes. I don’t believe this is humanly possible without the use of heavy machinery, yet I still wrestle with the damn things each time.

4. When going to Target, I tell myself I only need one or two things and to act in a civilized manner. Yet a few minutes into my jaunt I more closely resemble a skinny Tasmanian devil who forgot to write down what she needs—see point No. 1—and walks out with a bag full of “prizes.”

5. That I can discreetly manipulate two grocery carts that are stuck together, after which point I will be rewarded with a perfectly functional cart for my shopping. However, 99.99 percent of the time, I end up going Hulk on the metal pieces of shit, violently ripping them apart and being left with one that has a wonky wheel that veers into displays.

6. That faking my own death is an overly dramatic reaction to being asked to attend a webinar or fold laundry.

7. When my phone cuts out, I tell myself to wait a few minutes and let the other person call back. However, I get impatient and am the best at playing the “let’s keep calling each other at the same time so it goes straight to voicemail” game. Solution? Avoid the phone.

8. That turning up the radio in my Blazer so I can’t hear any weird noise that it’s making means there’s nothing wrong with my Blazer.

9. Because I feed the squirrels and birds in my yard, I would like to believe they respect me as a neurotic Dr. Doolittle of sorts. But with each acorn that lands on my head by the feeder and each bird gang bang performed in the bird bath, this mutual respect is called into question.

10. That if SpongeBob Squarepants–a freaking sponge–can find pants that fit, I can find a pair of “real” pants that aren’t uncomfortable. Actually, I don’t think I believe this myself anymore and should probably remove it from the list. Let’s move on—in workout pants.

11. I clean my floors simply to keep things nice and not because I inevitably drop food every day. Also, that I can stand next to the toaster, anticipating toast, and not jump every time the toast is popped up.

12. That the fact people found my blog with “snowman in a thong and sombrero,” “elderly squirrel Fight Club” and “mosquito boobs”—that one stings— is cancelled out by whoever found it with “Please. Like you’ve never Febreezed grandma.”

Your turn. What delusions of grandeur can you share with the class?

Like the blog? Buy the book.

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Hyperthetically Speaking

Posted on October 1, 2012 | 48 Comments

When people hear I’m an editor, the first thing they often assume is that I’m the grammar police. I am not.

tense

I do love a good grammar joke.

While I unfortunately/reflexively think in AP Style and know the difference between “that” and “which,” that doesn’t mean I’m not constantly referring to the AP Stylebook at work or that I always remember that a preposition is something never to end a sentence with.

And I’ve accepted—not excepted—the fact that I will never be able to correctly spell words like definitely on my first or third try. But there are  a few things that do make me lose—not loose—my cool with how language is often used.

Aha! There is one of them!

Lately the word “used” is being replaced by “utilize”—one of those “smart” words people throw into in hoping to sound fancy or amazingly intelligent.

Quick lesson: The definition ofutilizeimplies taking something and using it for an unintended purpose (convert to use.) Meanwhile, the definition of use means employing any old thing to achieve your goal, whether or not you use that any old thing for its intended purpose. So if you are not actually creating an alternate use for something, utilize is the wrong word.

Don’t use it.

With that out of the way, I have to admit that I do have a list of other words that I have personally witnessed the abuse of on multiple occasions, and I don’t feel bad specifically—not pacifically—pointing out these examples.

It’s not me being especially—not expecially—picky, but rather being helpful. Because I can tell you from a professional standpoint that for all intents and purposes—not intensive purposes—if you say/type something incorrectly, there’s a chance that someone could have—not could of—misunderstood what you were trying to say.

grammarecard

So occasionally pointing out to someone that “spelt” is a type of wheat and “spelled” is what they’ve done incorrectly is actually a public service.

Regardless—not irregardless, mind you—I figured I could probably—not prolly—vent my frustrations—not flusterations—here of a couple things I have seen (not saw.)

Hypothetically—not hyperthetically—speaking, let’s say you are engaging in an email conversation with someone and they asked—not axed—you if you had talked to a certain individual about his work ethic—not work ethnic.

A reply of, “He surposedly/supposably logged in five hours on Monday” will appear confusing to the recipient because “surposedly” is not a real word and “supposably,” although a real word that means “able to be supposed,” is not a synonym for “supposedly.”

catastrophe

This really doesn’t have to do with anything, but I thought it was funny.

Anyway, I could go on with another—not nother—example or two, but that would probably just sound too petty. In general, I really couldn’t care less about a lot of these except the misuse of “could care less” vs. “couldn’t care less.” That one just pisses me off.

Plus, I know that sometimes it’s simply a matter of hitting the wrong key on the keyboard, like the time I shared that I was “super busty” instead of “super busy.” (Looks up at the sky, twiddling her thumbs and innocently whistling a tune.)

After all, mistakes happen—hypothetically speaking, of course.

Like the blog? Buy the book.

Any flusterations you would like to vent?

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Letting It Go

Posted on August 23, 2012 | 50 Comments

I used to journal all the time.

This was before blogs and the option to share every waking thought with the rest of the planet, and I had notebook after notebook filled with thoughts on school and work and of course, food and exercise.

Looking back now I remember writing some of the entries and never being completely honest out of fear that someone would find them and read them, something that would have completely devastated me. But yet I wrote—day after day—about things going on in my life. Whether or not it was helpful in the end is up for debate, but at the time I felt like it helped.

I’ve stopped journaling for the most part.

If I spend time writing, I figure something has to come of it so all of that time wasn’t wasted. After all, what good is writing if nobody reads it but me? How will people know I’m struggling with something or that I have opinions on ALL OF THE THINGS?

mocha-dad-shakespeare-blog-cartoon

So instead of writing things out for myself when I notice some sort of emotion, I often dismiss it and push it so far on the backburner that it falls behind the metaphorical stove. I might write a post, but I edit myself, aware that there’s a fine line between introspection and navel gazing—a line that I’m always worried I’m crossing.

It’s times like these that I forgot the value of writing just to write, and that sometimes the end result is insignificant in comparison to the process. It’s not about approval or attention, but rather getting the words out of my head and onto a page at some point—if only just for me.

In other words, attachment to the process, not attachment to results.

This applies to so many things in my life. However, seeing as I am one of those moody writers who struggles with how much to share and fears the last thing I wrote will be the last thing that I EVER write, it makes a good comparison.

But big picture, it means taking a walk without worrying about the distance or sitting outside without feeling the need to be “doing.” It means not worrying about wasting the time that I spend, if the time that I spend brings me some sort of insight or peace.

Easier said than done, I know.

It’s easy to get caught up in the societal expectation that you not only have to “do” and produce results, but also tell everyone else that you’re “doing” and producing results in order to prove that you’re doing “enough,” or else you’re just wasting your time.

At least that’s what creeps into my head at times when I start to write something I know I won’t post or I sit on the deck with a book. Shouldn’t I be doing something that will yield a tangible result? What’s the point if nobody knows?

The point is that not everything needs a real point, or at least not the one you expect. Journaling, painting, taking a walk, etc. “just because” can help to collect up your thoughts. No attachment to results, no expectations for reward—that’s the point.

This quote from Ajahn Chah was on my daily calendar this week:

“If you let go a little, you will have a little peace. If you let go a lot, you will have a lot of peace.”

So today I will choose to let go—just a little, just for me—and consider it all time well spent.

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