B is for Boring...and Blog
I've determined, after really not much thought at all, that the reason why I don't blog much anymore is because I have become boring. Once upon a time, I was accused of blogging life rather than living life. This was when I wrote what probably seemed near constantly. Stuff happened or came to mind and I wrote it. It had to be moderately interesting stuff - being an out lesbian in the middle of the Bible Belt sure didn't hurt - to create a moderately ambitious following. Needless to say, I haven't been approached by a hot woman in a bar in years claiming to know my name because she's read my blog. Tell me again how I blogged rather than lived life.
Now, I'm apparently doing neither. Granted I'm older, more mature, I no longer live in the Bible Belt, and I have a girlfriend. I don't hang out with a bunch of hot thirty-somethings who like to drink and watch porn. I don't go out much if at all and I'm not a shining lesbian star in a homophobic universe. Moreover, I've stopped reveling in rocking the boat. In other words, I'm boring and old news.
I'm also forty-seven years old. The ride was fun - my late twenties, thirties, and early forties were some of the most raucous times of my life. I suppose I had to grow up at some point. Granted I came to immaturity late (after rarely breaking a rule for the first twenty-five years of my life) so it stands to reason it'd take until I was forty-something to come to my mature senses.
Unfortunately, all this maturity has hurt my blog. I've grown staid. I keep my political and religious views much closer to the vest than I ever have. I don't care to rail at the Christians, Republicans, or homophobes like I used to. I don't have any funny stories about drunk Hot Friends or horribly errant crushes on straight women.
I can't blame it all on age and maturity. In the past several years, perhaps for reasons of self-preservation, I've allowed my tendency toward introversion to dominate my psyche. Let me say this right here and now - Introversion doesn't make for rollicking blog-worthy good times. Who wants to read about how I spoke to no one for three entire days, watched a couple series on Amazon, read World War 1 history, and talked to the characters in my head? I can't quite see a show of hands.
Even though it's boring to read (and write for that matter), I do seem to be far more goal-directed than I've been since my early twenties (getting drunk and blogging never resulted in a graduate degree). Edit novel. Run a half marathon. Improve tennis game. Study Swedish. Go to Sweden. Research future novel project. Apply to grad school. Write daily.
You forgot Blogging, Stacee? No, I didn't. Because everything on the list is BORING. There's nothing to blog, nothing interesting anyway. I need to find a way to make my dismal goal directed activities blog-worthy? I need to go back on the Anti-Everything Pills because they made me at least passably fun?
But isn't a personal blog just a form of narcissism? I've come face-to-face with the ugly reality of narcissism and read Anais Nin's self-devotional memoirs. Both gave me reason to pause and ask myself what kind of audacity would lead someone to post their innermost thoughts on the Internet in the hopes that more and more people would read them. Did posting my blogs feed a latent narcissism in me? Does it still? Was it a tacit and somewhat acceptable way to gain attention? "Hey, over here! Look at me!" Or was it merely a form of self-expression, a release, a safe way to deal with the ups and downs of life?
I honestly don't know, I do know that, narcissistic expression or not, I don't want to give up the blog completely. People have said many times over the years that my words have touched them or meant something to them. That has to count for something. And, looking back on my toughest times, writing and posting helped me immeasurably.
So, I apologize for being boring. I hope it's just a passing thing. Though, wow, I really ought to watch what I wish for. Boring may not make for an exciting blog, but it does make for a peaceful life. In the grander scheme of things, I think I'd much prefer the latter.
Now, I'm apparently doing neither. Granted I'm older, more mature, I no longer live in the Bible Belt, and I have a girlfriend. I don't hang out with a bunch of hot thirty-somethings who like to drink and watch porn. I don't go out much if at all and I'm not a shining lesbian star in a homophobic universe. Moreover, I've stopped reveling in rocking the boat. In other words, I'm boring and old news.
I'm also forty-seven years old. The ride was fun - my late twenties, thirties, and early forties were some of the most raucous times of my life. I suppose I had to grow up at some point. Granted I came to immaturity late (after rarely breaking a rule for the first twenty-five years of my life) so it stands to reason it'd take until I was forty-something to come to my mature senses.
Unfortunately, all this maturity has hurt my blog. I've grown staid. I keep my political and religious views much closer to the vest than I ever have. I don't care to rail at the Christians, Republicans, or homophobes like I used to. I don't have any funny stories about drunk Hot Friends or horribly errant crushes on straight women.
I can't blame it all on age and maturity. In the past several years, perhaps for reasons of self-preservation, I've allowed my tendency toward introversion to dominate my psyche. Let me say this right here and now - Introversion doesn't make for rollicking blog-worthy good times. Who wants to read about how I spoke to no one for three entire days, watched a couple series on Amazon, read World War 1 history, and talked to the characters in my head? I can't quite see a show of hands.
Even though it's boring to read (and write for that matter), I do seem to be far more goal-directed than I've been since my early twenties (getting drunk and blogging never resulted in a graduate degree). Edit novel. Run a half marathon. Improve tennis game. Study Swedish. Go to Sweden. Research future novel project. Apply to grad school. Write daily.
You forgot Blogging, Stacee? No, I didn't. Because everything on the list is BORING. There's nothing to blog, nothing interesting anyway. I need to find a way to make my dismal goal directed activities blog-worthy? I need to go back on the Anti-Everything Pills because they made me at least passably fun?
But isn't a personal blog just a form of narcissism? I've come face-to-face with the ugly reality of narcissism and read Anais Nin's self-devotional memoirs. Both gave me reason to pause and ask myself what kind of audacity would lead someone to post their innermost thoughts on the Internet in the hopes that more and more people would read them. Did posting my blogs feed a latent narcissism in me? Does it still? Was it a tacit and somewhat acceptable way to gain attention? "Hey, over here! Look at me!" Or was it merely a form of self-expression, a release, a safe way to deal with the ups and downs of life?
I honestly don't know, I do know that, narcissistic expression or not, I don't want to give up the blog completely. People have said many times over the years that my words have touched them or meant something to them. That has to count for something. And, looking back on my toughest times, writing and posting helped me immeasurably.
So, I apologize for being boring. I hope it's just a passing thing. Though, wow, I really ought to watch what I wish for. Boring may not make for an exciting blog, but it does make for a peaceful life. In the grander scheme of things, I think I'd much prefer the latter.
Not quite boring as I get a feel of what's behind that psyche' of yours. I haven't gotten around to read the rest of your blogs. But, I do like your poetry section. (I'm a conservative guy ~ a guy as in a silly straight male... I think, cause I think most straight people can exhibit a certain gayness in life whether they like it or not. Or even believe in it or not - not sure what I just said), also, a non-homophobic that thinks that religion is kind of a joke in a sense, and quite dangerous in the followers of the fanatics (what would my employers think if they'd really found out about my true beliefs?). Well, fine job, hope you continue for as long as you can (We know each other in that FB world ~ Just take a wild guess!).
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