I admit I’ve been dreading writing this post as I saw it looming on the horizon a few months ago. I was dreading it almost as much as the first post I wrote four years ago on a sunny day in March of 2008 when I started this blog.
Because what if I wrote that first blog post and it was stupid(and it was – as most first blog posts are) and what if nobody read it and what if I failed.
So what if this post. This 1000th post – and my 500,000th or something word sucked too and nobody read it. Did I fail?
And sometimes I think that I have.
I’ve been blogging longer than many. I haven’t monetized – unless you call the $1 a day I make on my ads monetization. Which I don’t since it doesn’t even cover my daily Starbucks. So I choose not to have a daily Starbucks.
The many posts I’ve submitted for different syndication go unanswered. Unpublished. The freelance writing I pursue is about non-existent.
And I wonder if I’m really ‘just’ a blogger and not a writer.
So I think back to my AP English class in high school and wonder if that is where it all went wrong. I took that class because four years of English were required and because I was smart that was the last and highest English class available. I spent nine months sitting through that class thinking that a hot poker to the eye would be more fun than analyzing the symbolism of Madame Bovary and Lord Jim. I would sit in the back – thank god for the back – and either write love notes to my boyfriends or sneak in Seventeen Magazine and wonder if I could perfect the Cyndi Lauper side teased ponytail while the geeks in the front made notes in their book margins and discussed the latest books IN DEPTH.
Later in life I found out that there were these things called ‘book clubs’ and grown women would sit around and analyze and discuss a book and I would have flashbacks of AP English and politely decline the invites and would just read at home and enjoy the book all by myself. Because to me. Reading is extremely personal. Unless there is a lot of wine of course.
All if this is basically to say nothing.
Except that I rocked the teased side ponytail, read big important books all by myself, and spent way too much time writing love notes to asshole boys while I let the good ones mostly get away.
Which pretty much sums up where I am with my blog here. Four years and 1000 posts later.
If that makes any sense to you.
But even if it doesn’t. That’s okay.
Because it’s mine. And I love it. And one day in the not so distant future I hope that my kids will read it and love it and laugh at silly pictures of themselves and shake their head at their weird mom, and cry when they realized that this whole thing may not be a novel where they will find any symbolism but a portion of my life work that I truly did just for them.
And it’s when I stray from that course or try to be who I am clearly not that the whole thing sucks, isn’t fun and has me traveling on a stupid emotional roller coaster that I created in my own mind.
Which is why most bloggers are insane. Right?
That’s the true lesson isn’t it.
And the rest of you? You are just pawns in my evil plan of world-blog underachievement.
And me – where am I after four years and 1000 very very very important posts?
Well I am just an overdressed mom who is standing in an old and dirty bowling alley basement bathroom in only my stocking feet while I hold the stall door shut for my middle child.
Pretty much right where I should be. And I’m okay with that. Now how’s that for symbolism? Discuss.
Fashion anybody? Dammit because it’s mine. Linking up to What I Wore Wednesday.
Black ruffled cardigan – Target last Spring
Black tights – Target
Red cowgirl boots – Lucchese thrifted! (sometimes I sleep with them)
Black coat – local boutique
Black bag – local boutique
Red wrap dress – Matilda Jane clothing(you need it)
And consider this Pouring my Heart Out this week.
Also – thanks for reading my many many words. xo