Hey internet. I am curled up in front of a Christmas fire with a Chrismassy cup of tea and I am fat on crab legs and riesling. So no offense, but I don’t particularly want to talk to you right now.
There are exactly seven days left until I am finished with my one-year of daily blogging adventure.
Let’s revisit some fan favorites, hmm?
Anddd it looks like Watching Porn In A Library wins by a landslide, you dirty, dirty pervs.
As you may or may not have noticed, I have utterly dropped the ball on NaNoWriMo, and while on the one hand I think excuses are for sissies, I believe there’s a subtle intelligence in knowing when to bow out gracefully.
However, as I’m still very upset about the fact that I forgot to post a blog last Thursday, I’ve come up with a sort of combined penalty slash compromise. Compenolty. Penpromise. Thing.
I’m going to keep having a whack at NaNoWriMo and see how far I get. Then, in January, when I’ve officially finished my post-a-day challenge, I’ll finish off however many words I have to go until I reach my 50,000 words.
I think it’s fair. I’m technically doing the work of two women right now, with my mom gone, and I’ve been so swamped at work I’d be stressed even without adding more yoga classes, dog-sitting, housesitting, and chores. Add Thanksgiving and life drama and I’ve had time to eat food, let alone write 2,000 words a day.
However, I did make writing commitments that I feel are important enough to keep stabbing at (with a fork, long after they’ve died), and while I am disappointed in myself that I forgot a day, the lesson learned here is to be flexible and to keep plugging away.
I’m happy with that solution, anyways.
I missed yesterday’s blog post, internet. With 45 days to go to make it to a full year.
I’m really upset about this for a few reasons, including the fact that instead of posting material that I already had written, I was playing World of Warcraft. Also that I thought about it several times over the course of the day and just didn’t bother doing it.
Mostly I’m just disappointed in myself, internet, because I made myself an important promise and I blew it off for a crappy reason. I know probably nobody else cares, but I do. A lot.
When I started this blog, it was dramatic and serious and life changing, and I loved doing it and looked forward to it and wrote several blog posts in a night and really agonized over what I had to say. Now I’m clearly treating it like a chore, because that’s what its become. A job. An annoyance.
I lost the point of it, and I’m not exactly sure what to do about it.
I don’t know.
All 5 of you.
Per yesterday’s poll results, I’m making a few changes around these here parts.
Most of you, it seems, do not particularly enjoy themes, particularly the creative writing days. However, from looking at my stats, I seem to get the most blog likes on some of those posts. Which is… confusing. A compromise – I’ll ditch Manuscript Monday and Fiction Friday for now, on the stipulation that I get to randomly pop in a creative piece from time to time. I’m keeping Yoga Tuesdays and adding Life Advice Wednesdays – L.A.W. (yes, yes I did that on purpose) because 11 people apparently think I’m a credible source of wisdom. Which quite frankly is a poor choice on your part.
I’ll also try really hard to pop a personal story in every week, preferably about my pets, because apparently you guys are into that.
However, I’m including a CALL TO ACTION IN THIS POST.
CALL TO ACTION.
Look, I formatted it so you’d pay attention. Here’s an inspirational photo, too:
I’ve got 113 days left on this year long challenge, and I’m getting burnt out. So I need YOUR HELP.
What do you want me to write about? What stories would you like me to tell? What advice do you need?
Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated to get me through the next 113 days are greatly appreciated, no matter how stupid you think they are! Do you want to read about my first school dance? Or how I got into a sorority? Or the time I ran from the police at summer camp? Or the most embarrassing thing that ever happened to me?
Write a suggestion in the comments or email me at email@example.com!
This is it. 200 posts in a row.
I wanted, of course, to do something fabulous and exciting and glittery and super for post 200, but of course I couldn’t think of anything cool and then I told myself I’d probably come up with something cool this morning and instead I sat outside in the sun and read American Gods by Neil Gaiman and drank like 3 cups of coffee.
I of course looked at what I did for Post 100, but then I remember that post 100 happened while I was sitting on a beach in Puerto Rico and then I got sad that I was not currently in Puerto Rico. Also that post kind of sucks.
So yes, I’ve been staring at this blank post for the past hour – yes, hour – trying to come up with something poignant and refreshing, or at least something witty, and all I’ve got to show for it is a few lines of drivel.
NO PRESSURE CASS.
It’s been a rough, weird ride over the past 100 days, internet. I moved to Alaska and got two dogs (a Boston Terrier and a Great Dane. I named them Mister Piffles and Duke Buckingham). I shot a guy and robbed a few banks. I stole the World’s Largest Wooden Chair.
Nah, just kidding. None of that happened, obviously, but I did start an awesome new job and am moving out of my parent’s house in 15 days.
Perspective. It keeps things fresh.
Here. Look at a screen shot of my most popular posts in the past two hundred days.
…I write about weird things, huh.
Did I do it yet?
Is this a good post?
I CRAVE VALIDATION.
Sigh. Maybe my post for 300 in a row will be witty.
It has been a slowww day at the office, folks. I’ve been staring at this page for about an hour now. My office buddy and I have been listening to The Temptations on Pandora and dancing around the visitor’s centre as people walk by the large glass windows staring at us, but now she’s leaving and I have two more hours to sit here, so here goes nothing.
My blogging has been lacking lately. I’ve been uninspired writing wise. I’ve been busy. I’ve been kidnapped.
The reasons are fairly irrelevant, but the bare bones of the matter is that I’ve been producing bad content fairly consistently for a little while now. It’s hard to produce something funny or sharp or worthwhile everyday. Heck, lately I feel like I’m barely putting put something worth reading every week.
The truth is, I’m burnt out. I knew I’d get to this point, and I honestly got a lot farther than I thought I’d get, post-wise, before getting burnt out.
I’m seriously considering taking a day off of blogging a week.
I’ve been trying out the Wednesday Vlog thing to instill a little variety into my content every week, but let’s be honest, I’m a terrible vlogger (so far, anyways). Yesterday I couldn’t even get my video up on Youtube, which honestly is okay, because I rewatched it and it’s really bad.
I haven’t made any decisions either way yet, but it’s wafting around in the back of my head. Still, I told myself I’d blog everyday for a year and I’m almost halfway there, so cutting down a day a week seems somewhat defeatist.
So now I’m writing this blog to… let y’all know I haven’t made a decision on anything yet.
This is why I only have 3 regular readers.
Oh my goodness gracious.
WHAT IS HAPPENING, INTERNET.
So I don’t know where the fine line is between having an obscure internet blog and getting tweeted (twatted? Twote?) at by celebrities is, but apparently I have crossed that line. Because guess what internet. I have been twoted by Marc Summers.
If you follow this blog at all, you will perhaps recall that I went to a food festival in Puerto Rico called the Saborea at which I was hoping to encounter Marc Summers. I did not meet/ see/ interact with him at all during this event and I wrote a blog post detailing my disappointment at not having met Marc Summers. That’s where the whole situation was put to rest, and I promptly forgot about the entire affair.
Skip ahead to last week on Thursday. I checked my Twitter early Thursday morning right before teaching a yoga class, which turned out to be a terrible idea. I do, in fact, have a twitter. I am also terrible at Twitter. I probably only check in to Twitter about once a month, maybe. I do not know what compelled me to Twit that morning.
Imagine my immense surprise to find, then that Marc Summers, THE Marc Summers, DOUBLE DARE UNWRAPPED MARC SUMMERS AKA MY CHILDHOOD IDOL, had TWOTE AT ME not once but TWICE.
TWICE. I WAS TWATTED TWICE.
The first twit (sorry. Deep apologies. Do you live there?) had taken place 6 days prior, the second (can I call you?) 4 days days, exactly corresponding to when the True Story of How I Didn’t Meet Marc Summers parts one and two were released, and after a little sleuthing, I discovered that Past Me had apparently linked my WordPress and my Twitter to tweet every time a post goes live. So I guess that explains that.
I should not have to explain the mental strain and excitement this put me under. I was, quite literally, speechless for a period of about ten minutes, which, while understandable, is unhelpful if you are teaching a yoga class.
Quickly, however, the excitement turned to panic. How do I respond to a celebrity on Twitter? I am not one of those super smooth people who can just tweet at my idols like it ain’t no thang. I am not suave. I cannot restrain my excitement to 140 characters (I mean, obviously. I do have a blog for that.) If I was a celebritwotter, Masaharu Morimoto and Alton Brown would never have empty inboxes.I mean, they probably don’t already, because they’re super famous people. Also if they tried to contact me I would figuratively keel over and die (reasons why I’m single #25- I’m a stickler for the proper use of the words literally and figuratively).
Anyways, my Gran was over that day, and I told her about the whole thing, and she asked me why I was getting twote by a man who was far too old for me who was probably a creeper on the interwebs like the type she saw a thing about on the news the other day.
And so then of course I was all like Gran, Marc Summers isn’t a creepy stalker, he is a national treasure, but she did have a point about it probably being a bad idea to put my phone number on the internet, so I tweeted him my email instead:
Anyways, I haven’t heard from him since, but my fingers are crossed.