I've decided to try and do some more serious blogging. Well, that's what I've decided to do this week, anyway, or rather, last week I decided this. Which of course entails research, so I've been actually trying to find some time to read other people's blogs besides those of my good friends. (I will continue to read those, I promise!) The impetous behind this decision is my desire to earn some money this year, be it from a full-time job, part-time job, or free-lance. However, as I've been unemployed an overworked SAHM for the past three years, I feel the need to update my skillz. Because right now my skillz correlate a lot more to the preschool set. Ergo, wanting to do more serious blogging to enhance my writing skillz. (Which apparently have gotten so bad I can't even spell.)
Of course, reading all these other blogs, some of which actually make some money(!), really juices my insecurities, as I've been in a writing funk for, oh, about 8 years or so. See, I used to think I was a pretty good writer. I wrote articles, journaled like a woman obsessed, spewed poems out of my ass on a regular basis. But then I had to go and get happy, and as any artist knows, that's often the death knell for creativity. (GONG) So now, writing is sometimes a struggle. My mind reaches for words that it used to fall into. And when I find that words aren't drooling out of my fingers, I get ... I get ... (damn, see what I mean?)... discouraged, and go back to playing Dora the Explorer with my daughter. Because, I'm a mom, and that's what moms do. They take care of kids. That's it. ("Troll bridge, Tree, Tall Mountain, Troll Bridge, Tree, Tall Mountain...c'mon mom, keep playing with me!")
Okay, so, I'm wrestling with my identity this year. I don't know what's going to come out of all this, but who cares, really. It's the wrestling that will what counts. The fact that I've decided to look for something else out there, some other identity for myself beyond what I've backed myself into right now. Not that I don't love being T's wife or Z's mom--that part of my life is the happy part that makes it hard for me to write. It's just that I miss the creativity. It's something I need in my life. And it doesn't have to be writing. I'm hoping to dabble in some art, some graphic and web design, technology, music, and photography. You know, whatever. It's not like I've ever been one to focus in the past anyway. And who knows, next week I might forget all about the blogging idea.
Back to the blog research, I was directed toward this one by the austimama's yahoo group. The topic on the group was food blogs. I guffawed a number of times, and wanted to copy it. Kind of. But not really. To give you an idea of what this guy was blogging about, I humbly submit this picture, that was stolen from his site:
Of course, reading all these other blogs, some of which actually make some money(!), really juices my insecurities, as I've been in a writing funk for, oh, about 8 years or so. See, I used to think I was a pretty good writer. I wrote articles, journaled like a woman obsessed, spewed poems out of my ass on a regular basis. But then I had to go and get happy, and as any artist knows, that's often the death knell for creativity. (GONG) So now, writing is sometimes a struggle. My mind reaches for words that it used to fall into. And when I find that words aren't drooling out of my fingers, I get ... I get ... (damn, see what I mean?)... discouraged, and go back to playing Dora the Explorer with my daughter. Because, I'm a mom, and that's what moms do. They take care of kids. That's it. ("Troll bridge, Tree, Tall Mountain, Troll Bridge, Tree, Tall Mountain...c'mon mom, keep playing with me!")
Okay, so, I'm wrestling with my identity this year. I don't know what's going to come out of all this, but who cares, really. It's the wrestling that will what counts. The fact that I've decided to look for something else out there, some other identity for myself beyond what I've backed myself into right now. Not that I don't love being T's wife or Z's mom--that part of my life is the happy part that makes it hard for me to write. It's just that I miss the creativity. It's something I need in my life. And it doesn't have to be writing. I'm hoping to dabble in some art, some graphic and web design, technology, music, and photography. You know, whatever. It's not like I've ever been one to focus in the past anyway. And who knows, next week I might forget all about the blogging idea.
Back to the blog research, I was directed toward this one by the austimama's yahoo group. The topic on the group was food blogs. I guffawed a number of times, and wanted to copy it. Kind of. But not really. To give you an idea of what this guy was blogging about, I humbly submit this picture, that was stolen from his site:
1 Comments:
Some of that stuff on the Steve Don't Eat it! site is pretty gross but I've actually had Huitlacoche (corn fungus) at the taqueria around the corner. It's pretty good and no less disgusting than "infected milk" (cheese) or barley (beer).
Look forward to what you might have in store for us Mari.
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