Successful blogging depends so much on consumption. The next best thing to being invited to hang out with successful people is buying the things that successful people buy. No one wants to hear how mundane my actual daily routine is. So I'll mix it up by buying some stuff and blogging about that. I'll create a life online where I am surrounded by beautiful handmade wares from little-known fair trade organic shops in Portland; a world where I begin every day by opening my color-coordinated closet and pick out a different perfectly fitting vintage dress to wear - one that I've never worn before, preferably. That stuff is more interesting. And whenever I get writer's block, I can just go out and buy some more stuff and photograph that and talk about how great it is.
I'm not blaming anyone but me for this. I'm not gonna say "The TV made me do it. The culture made me do it. The Man made me do it." I just love stuff. It can be photogenic vegetables or flowers with unusual names, wooden kids toys from Sweden, or CDs by musicians who list influences no one's ever heard of. I love stuff that makes me look knowledgeable and unique - less vapid than I think I am in real life. But man... it wears on me. It gives me that murky feeling in my gut and whispers "This isn't true. It's too contrived." And I don't want it to be my idol.
I am almost never dressed before noon and I only do my hair and makeup about two or three days a week - on days when I have any reason to think someone might come to the door.I love my kids, but I don't enjoy being pregnant. At least, not this time. I've mentioned very briefly before how emotionally difficult this pregnancy has been, but honestly I don't go into even a fraction of how difficult it really is - not even with my family. I often feel depressed and angry when I hear other pregnant ladies talk about what a wondrous process it all is and that, no matter how hard, it's "all worth it." On the days that it's particularly hard, I'm either completely quiet online, or I force myself to write a few positive things to other people, out of fear that, otherwise, everyone will see the thoughts I'm really trying to force out of my head.
I am absolutely, positively disgusted by quinoa. It's the only food that disgusts me so much that it actually makes me angry. A food. That makes me angry. I'm afraid to tell you this because you love quinoa. I know it. We can still be friends.
I hold on to negative comments people have made - all the way back to when I was 10. Kids used to make fun of how I blink when I got nervous, and I am still nervous that people will notice and not want to be friends with me; kids used to make fun of us for not having much money, and I am still afraid of people thinking we're poor; someone once told me I have really veiny eyelids, so I will not leave the house without concealer on them. Pretty dumb, huh?
I am not by any means "crunchy." I think a lot of people assume I am, because of home birth and some other things I do. Honestly, any of the "crunchy" things I do I do because they will be of some other benefit to our family (for various reasons, I personally recover from natural birth much quicker than hospital birth, and I'll sometimes make cleaners simply because it's cheaper). I really don't like when people get preachy or look down on others for things like how they give birth, what they use to clean their houses, or what foods they eat. Unless they eat quinoa.
I have been terrible about reading other people's blogs lately - not because I'm too busy, but because even after reading my favorites, I come away feeling like everything about myself is supposed to be different. I don't wear vintage clothes and do my hair everyday. Sometimes, I really like that song I heard playing in Walmart. When we go out to eat, we'd usually rather go to Olive Garden than the privately-owned deli downtown in the historic brick building with the waiter with the big ear plugs. Those places almost never have highchairs or changing tables anyway.
What are you afraid to tell?
