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“Holy Crap! This Is My 200th Post!” post

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I didn’t think I had this much to say!

Hey Stalker!  Clean the dirty window while you are out there, would ya?

Hey Stalker! Clean the dirty window while you are out there, would ya?

I can’t believe I have written 200 posts in less than 2 years. I started this blog with just a random post with a survey about driving pet peeves. I had a vague notion that I would write a post about dead dad movies, Punky Brewster, and my two dogs.

From that, this blog has grown! An average of 35 people view MY WORDS every single day! Most of those people find from Google searches. Most of those Google searches are about The O.C., Homefront, and boxelder bugs😛 While I would love it if my viewership for each new blog post was that huge, I am incredibly thankful for my small but wonderful band of loyal readers. (You know who you are! Thank you!)

I have very lofty goals this year, which relate to writing. While I won’t list them here, those who are close enough to me to hold me accountable know what those goals are. And I don’t think I would be able to even attempt them if it wasn’t for the practice and confidence I have gained from these 200 posts.

Here is to 200 more!

What I Learned This Week – 10/7/12

Introduction to my week

In my life, I have participated in some strange events because something told me that I should.  An example would be when I played a ghoul on the Ghost Train.  I ended up on the train with the adults, rather than with my high school classmates outside in a field freezing and playing with a chainsaw.  I have always felt weird about this my whole life.

I just realized: THAT WAS AWESOME!!!  I didn’t have to freeze or, more importantly, spend time with people who had no desire to spend time with me.

Other events have included going to presidential campaign events, genealogical meetings, weather-spotter meetings, and numerous others.

A sticker I got from WordCamp that is now affixed to my puter

One such event I participated in yesterday.   I signed up and attended WordCamp.  Now, the write up for this event describes it as such:

WordCamp Detroit 2012 is managed and organized by a group of people who share a few key interests: Passion for the web, the love of WordPress, the drive to teach and belief in the a**-kicking city of Detroit.


Having actually attended the event, I would say it was a mish-mash of speakers of various levels of professional speaking ability and various levels of experience in WordPress/website coding/google/none and/or all of the above.  And you really need more than a basic level of knowledge of WordPress.

What I learned this week was that there is some degree of knowledge between writing a goofy little blog in my living room and the info that was dispensed at WordCamp.  And I am not sure where I need to look to find that info.

The word I heard over and over again that seems to be my biggest deficiency right now seems to be something called a plugin.  Or rather, many, many of them.  If my blog suddenly STARTS stalking you, then you will know I did something wrong:)

I also learned this week that I can put on my big girl panties (I hate that term) and drive all by my little self to big, bad Detroit on the frightening freeways and find the scary parking garage, and make it home again.

I was literally terrified to go all by myself.

My husband even offered to drop me off and pick me up.  But it is one thing for me to disrupt my life to attend an event, it is another to expect my husband to disrupt his entire Saturday as well.

Driving before 8:00AM on a Saturday, the traffic was not bad at all, and the one detour I had didn’t take me beyond the road I needed to turn on to.  And no one mugged me and stole my laptop on the way to the workshop.  Which was my second biggest fear, next to driving.  I had even emptied out my extra credit cards from my wallet so I would have fewer companies to call when my wallet was stolen.  And then I put my drivers license and credit card in my pocket while I walked on the street, so that they hopefully wouldn’t be stolen at all.

Comerica Park from the window of the WordCamp venue

The drive home was another matter.  My return home Google Maps directions looked very clean-cut and easy.  WRONG!  It turns out the venue was right next to Comerica Park (Home of the Detroit Tigers).  Like, you could see it right out the fifth floor windows where we were all day.  WordCamp got over one hour before the first Tigers playoff game of the year.  And Google Maps wanted me to drive right in front of Comerica Park.  So did all the one way streets that made it impossible for me to go any other direction.

I either missed my turn or the road was blocked there or both.  I ended up on Woodward Avenue, which was kind of a lucky break.  It is a very major road, so there were signs directing me back to the freeway.  Where I ran into all the traffic still arriving to the Tigers game. 

And wouldn’t you know it, my Service Engine Soon light popped on as I am trying to not collide with anyone in game time traffic?  I seriously have nightmares like that.  (My husband tells me to ignore the SES light.  It seems to only be an issue in the winter.  He claims it has to do with level of ethanol in the gasoline, or something like that.)

I was driving 80mph in the slow lane.  I couldn’t wait to get home to my safe little house.

The most important thing that I learned might be that although I don’t want to do something (and every molecule in my body is screaming at me not to), I can do it if I make myself.

I’m not stalking you. is NOW ON FACEBOOK! “Like” that I’m not stalking you and get an update when there is a new post to read. (It is sort of like YOU are stalking ME.)

Why I Blog

I got the idea to write this post from a comment I left for Friffle Thoughts in response to her post “Are All Bloggers Writers?”:

I used to think I wanted to write fiction/novels/short stories as a career someday. Then I tried it and realized it was hard work, like every other job. I didn’t like that. I stopped.

But then I discovered blogging. Blogging to me is like the free-writing I used to do in high school English class. It is easy. It clears my mind. My “blogging voice” is exactly what runs through my head. And once I write it down, then I don’t have to hold that experience/memory in my head anymore (it is getting very crowded in there).

My real inspiration for my blog was Tina Fey’s book “Bossypants”. Afterall, it is really just a free-write of events in her life. And it sold millions!!!

FYI-I love your friffles of thought.

And to expand on that tiny little comment:

If I am in a writing mood (i.e. writing about a topic I am interested in and for my own enjoyment and not for, say, work), the words just flow to me. They just pour out of my head and through my hand onto the paper. I feel as though someone else writes through me. I get frustrated that I cannot write fast enough to keep up with my thoughts. I would be a terrible writer of books. I usually believe that the first batch of words I capture on paper are the best and I do not like to edit them after (except fixing spelling and grammatical errors). In school, they always wanted you to have multiple drafts of big papers. Often all my drafts looked very similar.

Without realizing it, I often think in my head as though I am writing or telling a story to someone else. Often, I can think of a blog post in my head multiple times before I actually have the chance to write it down. When I do write it, it will be almost identical to the first time I ran the thought through my head. Yes, I like to write my posts out in long hand. I can type faster than writing, but then I get lots of typos and they slow me down and make me lose my train of thought. (I recommend Uni-Ball Jetstream 1.0 Bold pens. They flow quickly and thickly.) And I might not get to type it up for another month. And when I do, I can anticipate the next words or sentences while typing–because the words came out of my brain in the first place.

With blogging, there is also that delicious chance at the monster that is fame. Someone might read my blog. Anyone might read my blog. Someone who reads it might pass it on to another. A link might get posted somewhere else. My writing might get re-posted. Someone famous might read my blog. Someone in publishing might see and want to give me a book deal. Someone in news might see it and want to include me in a newscast. (Hey, it can happen. I take full credit for badly influencing my asbestos friend, lazyhippiemama, to begin blogging and she ended up on HuffPost Live!)

I am someone who has anxiety, but secretly yearns to be famous and known. I love the entertainment industry. I read Entertainment Weekly every week cover to cover. I went to college and studied Radio and TV Broadcasting. On radio, you can be heard by millions but hide behind the microphone. On television, you can hide behind the camera. On my blog, I can hide behind my computer screen. I can blur my face out in photos one week if I feel like being anonymous. The next week I can leave my face alone if I am feeling brave and confident in my writing and topic.

Most of all, I can get all these words and experiences out of my head! I am almost 37 years old and running out of room up there. I have trouble remembering anything, especially since I was pregnant and had my son. I thought not being able to hold a thought was just a “pregnancy” thing. But for me, it seems to be just a “parent” thing.

I used to watch the great sitcoms of the 80’s and always say “I could write that.” And except for the fact that I am too scared of big cities to move to L.A., I think I could have been good at that. I think it was my secret career dream. I should have listened the night it presented itself to me in a dream. In the dream, I was working with a group of people to create a new TV show. It was all last minute and came together very quickly (Yes. I am aware shows take years to develop and get on air–DREAM, remember?) So quickly, that when they put the show together, they wanted to give me a vanity card at the end, but I hadn’t created one. In the dream, I never knew they created one for me until I watched my first episode and saw it at the end. The other creators knew I liked to cross-stitch (I actually do in reality, but haven’t done it in years), so my vanity card was done in cross-stitch. If I ever knew what it said, I can’t remember. I have never forgotten that dream. And I know if I ever do create a series, that is what I will use.

An example of a simple cross-stitch

I’m not stalking you. is NOW ON FACEBOOK! “Like” that I’m not stalking you and get an update when there is a new post to read. (It is sort of like YOU are stalking ME.)

Shoulda been a writer.

As I am in the middle of job hunting, networking, perfecting my resume, a very dear former co-worker of mine complimented my writing skills on a Linkedin recommendation I wrote for another former collegue. She had no idea (well, maybe a little idea) that I have all these creative juices that can, at times, flow all over the place (In the words of Summer Roberts on The O.C. “Ew.).

I liked writing in school. Out of gym, math, and science, it was the least henious. My asbestos friend (I’ll explain it someday, promise) and I used to skip lunch in high school to go to the computer lab and work on personal stories. It seemed like a much more pleasant experience to escape into my creative dreamland than to negotiate the impending embaressment that is the high school lunch room.

I think I always thought I would be a writer someday. Of novels or poetry or TV scripts or newspaper articles. When I got my first grown-up job, I shelled out big bucks to buy a word processor (I know, lame. Even lamer, it was the year 2000!). I sat down one uneventful evening to begin my career as a writer. Then I realized it was work like everything else. That night is sort of when I let my writing dream die. But then…


The Internet created these things called blogs, where you didn’t have to have someone else “publish” your thoughts–you could just puke them out of yourself for your closest friends to read! Of course, the disadvantage is no marketing support and no paycheck for them. That is why I need everyone who reads this blog to send it to one other person, and so on. So that someday my words might support me afterall. Getting paid just to be me wouldn’t really be work at all.

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