Dominatrix, Blow and Spinning. Google Pervs Delight
/Ever feel the winds of change howl around you and shudder while you try and wrap yourself up with a cloak of denial?
No?
It's just me? Damn it.
I have never been one to embrace change with open arms. I'm more of a drag-me-kicking-and-screaming into a new situation type of gal. I am innately stubborn when it comes to accepting new things.
This trickles into all aspects of my life. I go to the same restaurants, order the same foods, read the same blogs, buy the same clothes (just in multiple colours) and enjoy the same routine daily.
I am a stalker's delight, really.
Yet, here I am, knowing that the house of cards I'm building, like the castles in the sand I love to craft, is tilting to the left much like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. One tectonic shift, one strong gust of wind, and everything I love will come crashing down around me.
I hate that feeling.
When I started blogging, years ago already, I never gave much thought to who would be reading me. I never really thought anyone would find this blog in the universe of the Internet; one small little blog in a sea of others. Yet, somehow I have managed to not only build up a readership (and if I could tongue kiss you all, I totally would) but land myself a job based in large part because of the scribbles I post here weekly.
When I started blogging, that long ago evening when I sat in the dark staring at the bright computer screen as my children peacefully slumbered on, my life was a world away from the reality I face today. I was stuck in a pit of grief, unable to see the light to shine myself out. I couldn't see past the end of my nose through the tears that poured out of my eyes to see clearly into the future, to anticipate just how this blog would impact my life and my family's life.
I just sat there, in the dark, and clung to the hope that somehow, this thing called blogging would bring me peace; allow me to heal. I was working on instinct alone.
My instincts were right, and over time and with many words poured out to be shared with the invisible community that rallied around to support me, life got better.
(I wish I could say the same for my grammar. Sadly, time and practice has only encouraged more run on sentences, spelling errors and misplaced commas than my English professors would like to see.)
Like my children, my blog is growing up.
(I myself, will never grow up. I will be that old chick down the street who still wears mini skirts and tube tops and tries to shake her wiggling arse booty to the beats of generations past. And I'll do it with big hair too, dammit.)
But since my kids are growing up, and my blog has expanded into twitter and facebook and now television, I'm wondering if it isn't time to take the next step in blog world and drop the pseudonyms I've saddled on my kids. Perhaps it's time to unveil them as the people they are and not the characters their blog nomickers make them into.
My children are indifferent. They still argue over which is Fric and which is Frac. The only thing they care about when it comes to this blog is that I don't write anything that will get them hog-tied and stuffed into a locker.
My husband is not so indifferent, but has softened on the stance since I went on the evening news and admitted my children like to toss knives around.
It's amazing really, that he lets me have access to the computer.
Does it make a difference, these pseudonyms? Does it provide my children with some invisible shield of security or am I just deluding myself into thinking that, what with all the other media I've done in the past?
Does it make a difference to the stories I share, whether I use their real names or their blog names?
Does anyone really care?
Am I the only one who keeps mixing up Fric and Frac?
What is your opinion? Sound off in the comment section. Should I bite the bullet and introduce more reality into my posts or do you prefer I keep things as they are?
Cuz I'm spinning in the wind here, unsure of which direction I should forge ahead with.
The floor is yours. Speak up. Because damn it, I need someone to tell me what to do.
Be my dominatrix for the day would ya?
*post edit: I have a different surname than my husband and children, so I'm not entirely sure that using their real first names will impact the Google when they grow up and apply for jobs. God willing, they apply for jobs. Because if they think they are going to sponge off the good will and fortune of their father and me, they aren't just delusional they are way optimistic and thereby not my offspring.*
No?
It's just me? Damn it.
I have never been one to embrace change with open arms. I'm more of a drag-me-kicking-and-screaming into a new situation type of gal. I am innately stubborn when it comes to accepting new things.
This trickles into all aspects of my life. I go to the same restaurants, order the same foods, read the same blogs, buy the same clothes (just in multiple colours) and enjoy the same routine daily.
I am a stalker's delight, really.
Yet, here I am, knowing that the house of cards I'm building, like the castles in the sand I love to craft, is tilting to the left much like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. One tectonic shift, one strong gust of wind, and everything I love will come crashing down around me.
I hate that feeling.
When I started blogging, years ago already, I never gave much thought to who would be reading me. I never really thought anyone would find this blog in the universe of the Internet; one small little blog in a sea of others. Yet, somehow I have managed to not only build up a readership (and if I could tongue kiss you all, I totally would) but land myself a job based in large part because of the scribbles I post here weekly.
When I started blogging, that long ago evening when I sat in the dark staring at the bright computer screen as my children peacefully slumbered on, my life was a world away from the reality I face today. I was stuck in a pit of grief, unable to see the light to shine myself out. I couldn't see past the end of my nose through the tears that poured out of my eyes to see clearly into the future, to anticipate just how this blog would impact my life and my family's life.
I just sat there, in the dark, and clung to the hope that somehow, this thing called blogging would bring me peace; allow me to heal. I was working on instinct alone.
My instincts were right, and over time and with many words poured out to be shared with the invisible community that rallied around to support me, life got better.
(I wish I could say the same for my grammar. Sadly, time and practice has only encouraged more run on sentences, spelling errors and misplaced commas than my English professors would like to see.)
Like my children, my blog is growing up.
(I myself, will never grow up. I will be that old chick down the street who still wears mini skirts and tube tops and tries to shake her wiggling arse booty to the beats of generations past. And I'll do it with big hair too, dammit.)
But since my kids are growing up, and my blog has expanded into twitter and facebook and now television, I'm wondering if it isn't time to take the next step in blog world and drop the pseudonyms I've saddled on my kids. Perhaps it's time to unveil them as the people they are and not the characters their blog nomickers make them into.
My children are indifferent. They still argue over which is Fric and which is Frac. The only thing they care about when it comes to this blog is that I don't write anything that will get them hog-tied and stuffed into a locker.
My husband is not so indifferent, but has softened on the stance since I went on the evening news and admitted my children like to toss knives around.
It's amazing really, that he lets me have access to the computer.
Does it make a difference, these pseudonyms? Does it provide my children with some invisible shield of security or am I just deluding myself into thinking that, what with all the other media I've done in the past?
Does it make a difference to the stories I share, whether I use their real names or their blog names?
Does anyone really care?
Am I the only one who keeps mixing up Fric and Frac?
What is your opinion? Sound off in the comment section. Should I bite the bullet and introduce more reality into my posts or do you prefer I keep things as they are?
Cuz I'm spinning in the wind here, unsure of which direction I should forge ahead with.
The floor is yours. Speak up. Because damn it, I need someone to tell me what to do.
Be my dominatrix for the day would ya?
*post edit: I have a different surname than my husband and children, so I'm not entirely sure that using their real first names will impact the Google when they grow up and apply for jobs. God willing, they apply for jobs. Because if they think they are going to sponge off the good will and fortune of their father and me, they aren't just delusional they are way optimistic and thereby not my offspring.*