I dream of a finished office space, white furniture with wall-to-wall white shelving filled with my books and my magazines. I dream of pristine walls with a slight hint of turquoise. I dream of a wide open window with lightweight sheers and a white orchid sitting on the sill. I see myself sitting at a glass top desk, lightly tapping out my mediocrity for all of the Internet.
In my head, that space will make it all better. That space will bring me back to the spot where I want to write again. In that space I will work, providing others with their lovely writing spaces while I will begin to remember what it was like when I would write something I was proud of. Something. Anything.
But that space won’t relieve my mental block. That space won’t be a reality for a long, long while – if ever. That space, this space, seems to have met it’s end. Or at least it feels that way.
It’s been months since I’ve been able to write something that others can connect with. The more I read, the more I realize that the need to be really good at what you do is ever more prevalent. As parent blogging changes and morphs rapidly into blogging for marketing and sponsorship, those whom used to write personally are converting and only the strong remain unwavering.
I am wavering. I have no desire to chase sponsorships no matter how much I’d love to be at the next *it* conference. Yet like others, I want to be noticed, adored and READ. (If you’re a blogger and say you don’t care about those things, you’re lying to us and worst of all – yourself. No one puts themselves out on a public stage just because.) But I have long since passed the stage of promoting this site. There is no more clicking around traffic building sites or adding my site to all the “communities”. I don’t work on improving my SEO (search engine optimization), nor do I care how you found my blog.
This blog is now dying. Actually, I believe it’s been dead for a while.
I am no longer – what I believe to have been – a member of the blogging community. There is very little community. It’s a shark tank full of people looking to make a quick buck and get stuff and if you happen to step on some toes to do it? So be it. There are some great people whom I’ve kept in contact with, but for the most part, my blog reader and twitter feed has transcended into white noise. There are fewer voices with a message; there are even less with ones I want to hear. That’s not to say that your writing is falling on deaf ears, rather that it’s just getting hard to discern the heartfelt writing. With FTC regulations, disclosure statements and disclaimers on satirical writing, it just seems so contrived and fake, even though the intention is quite the opposite.
Transparency is a fickle bitch.
As much as we’re transparent about what we’re writing and saying online, it’s behind the scenes where we are the most clouded, contrary and unethical. Talking about people, their actions, their writing, their reviews, their “free gifts”, their sell-out attitudes. I see no disclaimers on the hateful statements spewed back and forth, no transparency in the relationships we are pretending to have.
I am no different.
I’ve sat back and watched for months as I fought my own internal battle of facing the truth. I’ve sat back and debated whether or not I owe you, readers and friends, a statement regarding things that have happened behind the scenes. You know, in the name of transparency. Am I being dishonest with you by not speaking out? Am I making myself appear guilty by allowing those who have spoken out – albeit inaccurately – on my behalf? Because every. single. fucking. time. I take to this keyboard, I stall. I am paralyzed by thoughts of people thinking that everything I write from here on out is a fucking lie because of something they’ve heard elsewhere. I think about the links and the emails flying back and forth saying, Did you see what she wrote now? I can’t believe she said that. What a fuckin’ liar. She is dead to me. After all this and she has the nerve.. Why does she even bother?
Dearest friends have said to let it go. My wonderful and loyal friends have said it nothing to worry about and that I acted out of good faith and love. My good friends, the people THAT KNOW ME are right.
But what about the others? The ones that I concern myself with when they really have shown they deserve little of my time. Why? Why do I give even an iota of shit for what they think?
Because I am human.
I am just like you: I want acceptance, I want love, I want people to care about me too. I want forgiveness, friendship and relationships. Because I am human.
Without transparency I feel I am stifling myself. I can write here over and over that I don’t care what you think and that it’s time to move on, but the truth is I do care, and I can’t move on – because EVERY. FUCKING. TIME. I open this computer I think about the people who have (may have) heard something and are taking it verbatim. I think about the fact that no one has even ASKED my side. People I thought were friends have taken what they’ve heard as gospel and haven’t even given me a chance. It angers me, it hurts me and it’s not fair.
But it’s not only about me and my perceived conflicts. There are people who I KNOW have been talking shit about some people I care deeply for and then they are playing nice to their faces and telling them they have their backs when they definitely do not. I know they say they are friends and “would do anything for them” and then have been calling them hurtful and hateful things behind their backs. You forget, my friends, the internet is very much like high school. Things are said and they DO get back to the people you’re talking about; even if you’re calling someone a “crazy bitch” in jest, it may not be perceived that way in some conversations.
I think we owe it to ourselves – as compassionate, responsible and caring adults to just cut the shit. If you don’t like someone or something they’ve said, so be it. Deal with it. Move on. But the name calling? The hurtful and evil comments about people you *think* you know are really getting us nowhere. Because at the end of the day, has it made your life *that* much better by saying such evil things about someone else? No. Does letting someone know “for their benefit” that a friend of theirs has wronged someone else? No. Because no matter what you say, they will continue to make their own decisions in life and your hurtful words of “concern” and “support” are only going to make you look like that fickle bitch, Transparency.
I watched Jon & Kate Plus 8 last night. It was not what I expected.
From the buzz around the internet, the tabloid mess of (un)truths, I expected to see Kate turn green, rippled with muscles and out break people in two.
Instead I saw a deeply confused and hurt woman crying out for someone who appears to no longer be available to her. I saw her needing emotional support, love and companionship.
I saw myself.
The chatter I’ve heard and the stories I’ve read callously call Kate an attention hungry, angry bitch that expects the world to revolve around her. She’s a neglectful parent and evil wife, a cold-hearted employer and a fame whore.
I see a confused, overwhelmed woman who is watching her marriage slip away while being filmed for the world to see. I see a scared, angry and very worried lady who is unsure of everything around her.
People have been talking about how Kate played up the fact that she has to do everything and she has to take all the kids by herself to get the party decorations while Jon “decided he needed a weekend off”- but tell me this: WHO DOESN’T DO THAT?! You can’t sit there and tell me that you have never played up the fact that you’ve had to do ALL the grocery shopping, the cleaning, the laundry, the parenting while your significant other goes out golfing / shopping / girl’s weekend / boy’s weekend – whatever. So Kate’s little “woe is me” moment was caught on tape? That gives us the right to call her a bitch; needy; demanding; etc.?
I do it. ALL THE TIME. I complain that I have to get the kids ready in the morning, I have to do pick up and drop off at daycare, I have to remember to take something out for dinner, I have to make sure the bills are paid, I have to do the laundry…WE ALL DO.
Marriage is tough. I’ve said that before. Things begin to unravel and by the time you realize it, they can be so far gone that it’s hard to work on even in a regular situation – like with TWO children – nevermind EIGHT.
There’s talk about the fact that Kate’s never home because she’s out “whoring” her new book instead of being home with the children. A neglectful mom who is more concerned with her fame and fortune than her children? I doubt it. Maybe a mom that has a chance to realize her dream of writing a book while HER HUSBAND stays home with the kids after he quit his job to be home. Had she been home and NOT working while Jon busted his ass everyday the tables would surely have been turned to call her a mooch – or lazy – because she didn’t have a job of her own.
I can tell you, if I had the option to write a book, have a television show and a new house for my eight children – children who likely eat about a grand worth of food a week, grow like weeds and will eventually be heading off to a post-secondary school requiring THOUSANDS MILLIONS of dollars in tuition – I’d do it in a heartbeat. Compared to working a dead-end job with limited chance for advancement or a salary to afford those eight kids even the bare minimum, it’s a pretty cushy job that one would be pretty silly to turn down.
Those of us with personal blogs, sharing stories of our family and have ads on our site are no different – though the scale is much less, it’s the same. So as we sit at the other end of our computers writing about Jon and Kate being fame whores for sharing every little detail about their family and their marriage – WHAT DOES THAT MAKE US?
Overall, I was deeply saddened by the show; because not only is this family falling apart before our very eyes while we critique their every move, I saw myself and my marriage play out on that television screen.
The way Jon and Kate worked around each other, ignoring each other as they passed? That’s my life.
As they conversed for the sake of the children – emotionless, heartless conversation solely for the purpose of the kids – THAT IS MY LIFE.
The blaming each other because of the unevenly distributed workload – MY LIFE.
It was truly an eye opener to see. Sad, heartbreaking and scary, but an eye opener nonetheless.
Updated:Apparently I should read my feeds before creating a post because when I think I have a great!, funny! idea, it would so happen that I post it on the same day as Jenny, The Bloggess – my blog crush – *waves* Hi Jenny! What up? Can’t wait for your BlogHer vagina party! *fist bump*
Now this posts just makes me look like a total copy cat loser and I totally fuckin’ destroyed her awesome (Destroying her awesome is pretty well impossible, but get the jist – and if you don’t? Well could could get a fist). I just mulched a funny into a clusterfuck of crap. Do yourself a favour and just go read over there. She cuts and pastes and shit. Totally better.
In keeping up with this week’s theme, I thought I’d share this little tidbit with you.
Just picture it: Barack, Michelle and the children sitting down to dinner in their new White House dining room. Maybe a television on near by to hear the latest news and stories about Barack’s first couple days in office only to hear mention of Barack and fisting in the same sentence ON NATIONAL TELEVISION.
What? Don’t look at my like that, it’s entirely plausible.
Yup. You’ve read that correctly. I am in love with a couple of gay men.
I believe I’ve always had a soft spot for homosexual men. I’m not quite sure why, but Colin McAllister and Justin Ryan are my two most favourite gays. Ask Karen Sugarpants, I talk about these two constantly.
I can’t tell you why or how this affinity for gay men came about, but as far as I can remember, I’ve had a feeling of comfort with them – which is even more strange because I don’t have any openly gay men close to me (Well, accept if you count my neighbours – but they are only close in proximity.).
It gets weirder.
I even have a sexual attraction to these two. I KNOW! Them and all their flamboyant gay-ness make me hot. I can’t even explain it, nor do I really care for an explanation, I just revel in the fact that they are gorgeous, funny and passionate. So neither of them have an interest in women. Small detail.
About six years ago I asked Mike to go with me to the gay pride parade to which he begrudgingly obliged. Mike is not a homophobic person, but he is not comfortable like I am; he was not looking forward to this ‘adventure’. Even though he’d never admit it, I believe he was just a little curious about how the whole thing would go down; the whole time, he stood quietly at my side, even holding my hand tightly – I assume to ward off those prowling gays because they’re like vampires, yanno *rolleyes* – and even kept his usual derogatory comments to himself.
Nothing really significant happened that year and I was able to convince him to go with my the following year.
This time? This time was a little different.
As the parade passed us by, we stood on the sidelines, close to the route.
I kinda peaked out of the corner of my eye and noticed that he was smiling and seemed to actually be enjoying himself. Who knew this macho man’s man would enjoy a highly flamboyant event such as the Pride Parade? But! That all came to a crashing halt when a man, dressed as a fairy – covered in glitter, in a speedo and wearing wings – approached Mike with a watering can labeled ‘fairy dust’.
I think you can guess what happened next….
The guy sprinkled his dust atop Mike’s head.
As Mike’s face changed rapidly from enjoying his time to utterly pissed off and I began worrying what the outcome was going to be. The headlines flashed through my mind: A gay basher beating up a homosexual in the midst of the Pride Parade.
Not good.
I held my breath as the fairy passed.
I watched Mike’s expression soften a little as I smiled at him.
I think he likes you! Maybe he thought you were hot and could change you so that you could be boyfriends. I teased.
Mike glared at me, which only made me laugh more.
Fuck. you. He spat out. We’re NEVER coming here AGAIN.
I was almost in tears I was laughing so hard.
Needless to say that was our last Pride Parade.
He doesn’t speak of The Incident, but I believe it still haunts him because every time he sees Colin and Justin come on the television his eyes glaze over and he leaves the room.
There’s a bit of a lull for the time being and I’m trying to catch my breath: internet-work-wise, no lull on the home front that’s for sure!
I’ve been a busy bee behind the scenes as of late with new projects starting (Look for a weekly feature with Rookie Moms to be starting up here soon – with GIVEAWAYS! *squeeee!*), designing and potential conferences in the works but everything seems to be at a standstill at the moment and I’m just waiting for it all to come crashing down around me.
I am very poorly organized. I’ve noticed the demise of my organizational skills over the years. It’s not been pretty. Along side my undying ability to procrastinate to the very last second, I have managed to work myself into a many unnecessary frenzies because I’ve waited to the very last second and OMG, where the hell did I put it!?
But don’t you worry, design clients and collaborators, I always come through!
[Seriously? Could I be anymore of an idiot? Want work, not scare it away. Fuck.]
I’ve tried calendars, time management courses with management booklet/calendar, google alerting me, notebooks, sticky notes – you name it: yes, even tried the Smart Phone (the Palm version of an iPhone) and it was probably the most effective tool… but expensive and I had to return it to work when I left.
I just don’t know how or where to combine all the stuff I need to manage even just my ONLINE life, nevermind the children, doctors appointments, grocery lists, car servicing, on and on and on. There’s so much information, important! information! that needs to be kept track of and accessible at the blink of an eye.
Scheduling has never been my forte and I would so love it to be. I so admire those ladies that pull out their ‘little black (or pink or sequined) book’ and know everything and anything that has to be done, when and where.
OMG what am I going to do when there’s afterschool activites and sports!? So. Much. MORE! Stuff!
Since I’ve committed to a few online gigs (like Binky, designing and at least two others to be revealed at a later date) I want to better schedule my time online so that I am effective when I have the chance to sit down and get work done.
Tell me, oh wise Internetz, what do you do? White board, iPhone, Palm, pad and pen??
Share your infinite wisdom.
Organize me!
Schedule me!
Because otherwise I will remain a bumbling moron and I will forget that there are giveaways! and wonderful! gossip! and designs! and I will break down in tears. You don’t wanna make me cry Internetz, do you?
*Â i should never come up with a title before the post because now it’s turned into something totally different then it was intended to be and I can’t think of anything catchy to call this bumbling piece of shit post. So it stays. Now hold hands; we can all be confused together.
:::
Oh hai! Did you see that I’m giving away an HP photo printer? Want it? Find out how to get it here!
I’m not really sure how to start this, so I’ll just come out and say it.
Things between us have changed, our lives are moving in different directions. It’s been happening for some time now, I just wasn’t willing or ready to face it. I wanted to believe that you were still very much the man for me as you’ve been for so many years. I thought I was able to accept your relationship with her.
I didn’t think she would change things. I thought it was a relationship similar to those of the past but I’d be naive to believe that was still a possibility. I can’t be the other woman.
I know this may come as a shock, but over time you will see that this is truly what’s right. I want nothing but the best for you and I know in my heart that I can’t give you that.
It’s not you, it’s me. I just want more. I want what we used to have, and I’ve been kidding myself into believing that was still a possibility.
I will always have a special place for you in my heart.
Dogfighting is a sadistic “contest” in which two dogs—specifically bred, conditioned, and trained to fight—are placed in an enclosed “ring” to fight each other for human entertainment as well as gambling. Fights can range anywhere from an hour in length to often lasting more than two hours and usually end when one of the dogs will not or cannot continue – or die.
The “losing” dog who survives the match will usually suffer severe consequences at the hand of the owner. Consequences for losing can include: being beaten with bats, chains, have battery acid thrown on their flesh and open wounds as well as being shot, hanged and drowned.
Pit bulls are the dog of choice when it comes to dogfights due to their tenacious loyalty to humans; they will fight to the death and suffer gravely in order to satisfy their human.
Thanks to Michael Vick’s notoriety, the underground world of dogfighting has enlightened many that would otherwise have had no idea what fate these animals have been suffering at the hands of these unconscionable people.
Thank you Michael Vick.
God, that pains me to write. Thank you to such a vile and inexcusable monster.
But without his celebrity, this story would have been brushed under the rug as so many others have and it’s time for people to know. To be educated about the pit bull breed and to stop living in fear of their portrayal in the media.
Saving Michael Vick’s Dogs is a fantastic article written by Brigid Schulte for the Washington Post. A definite must read that provides insight into the world of dogfighting and the pit bull breed.
Typically when a dogfighting ring is busted, the dogs are executed without question, but these 50 pit bulls resuced from Vick’s property have been given a fighting chance – at life. Many of the dogs have undergone extensive rehabilitation and training due to mostly to fear, anxiety and lack of socialization. A number of the dogs were terrified to move let alone be touched by a human hand, where few showed aggressive tendencies towards humans.
A widespread misconception about pit bulls is that they are aggressive to humans because they are aggressive to dogs. Just like any other breed of dog, a pill bull responsibly owned, raised, as well as socialized, is no more likely to be human aggressive then any other dog.
Myths of pit bulls being unpredictable, vicious and dangerous have long fueled the fear of this breed. Because of their rough appearance, pit bulls – as well as rottweilers, dobermans, etc. – have been targeted by such groups as gangs, dogfighters, and thugs to be used as an accessory to their menacing appearance which in turn has sensationalized their “bad dog” image. These breeds are no more likely to be harmful then a shitzu, golder retriever, or cocker spaniel provided they are raised in a loving environment, by a responsible person. Many instances of dog attacks or bites are traced back to improper care, lack of socialization and supervision.
Vick’s dogs have been a few of the lucky ones rescued from fighting. These dogs have been given a second lease on life, a chance to love and be loved. About half the dogs have been introduced into loving, caring and experienced foster homes while those whom shown little tolerance to other dogs are living out their days at Best Friends Animal Society’s 3,700-acre sanctuary in Kanab, Utah called Dogtown. One special dog – Leo – now visits cancer patients as a therapy dog!
The only way we can save these animals from the prejudice and hate is to get educated. Given the proper treatment, these dogs are unique and wonderful with tons of love to give.
Great sites to debunk myths and learn more about pit bulls:
Sick again. Still, actually. Wednesday I came down with something, unable to even keep water down, I’ve slept through 28 of the past 48 hours. Thank God for daycare and Mike otherwise I think Carter would have been been locked in a closet. I’ve been stricken with the sick bug practically this entire pregnancy. I don’t know if it’s just that my immune system is compromised or I’m just a gluten for punishment. I’m really over it though. I don’t wanna be sick anymore. *pout*
Since Tuesday evening I’ve also been in a little more of a funk after hearing of the passing of Heath Ledger. I can’t even explain why I’ve been so profoundly impacted by this loss. Sure, I was a fan of his movies, I thought he was cute, but there was nothing really beyond that. Yet, I find myself sobbing at every photo I see. Deliriously upset by the fact that Matilda has been left without a father and the entertainment world has lost a shining star.
I have no connection or affiliation, yet I seem to be overwhelmingly depressed by this loss. It’s difficult to describe without sounding like a complete psychopathic stalker, so I’ll just blame it on the hormones.
I think death in Young Hollywood affects me so greatly since I’m completely and utterly hormonal in the same age category as many of these stars. Britney and her meltdown, Lindsay Lohan and rehab, Brad Renfro’s overdose, and Heath. They have a different lifestyle, financial freedom and new found independence to accompany that wealth, unlike many of us their age, yet, for some reason it’s difficult not to find oneself comparing one to them. Once you take away the wealth and fame; they are the same. People trying to make a living and provide for themselves and loved ones.
The thought of Carter losing his father so tragically, so young, takes my breath away. I can’t even fathom the idea of him not have a memory of his father, or having to explain where daddy went and why he’s not coming back. In that sense, Heath’s passing has made it so much more emotional. There is a child involved. A child so dearly loved and cherished by a man that she, more then likely, will not remember; aside from what people tell her of him. My heart breaks for that young girl and her mother. Not to mention the rest of his family who never had the chance to say goodbye.
SO YUM! But I’m so over it (I think.)
