Thursday, July 22, 2010

I could write a clever title or I could watch my cat stalk a chipmunk. Guess which one I picked?


Yep, I'm still here. Not writing but still... Here.

If I don't write, does that still make me a blogger? Probably not, huh? I'm going to a blogging conference in a couple of weeks, does that make me a blogger? Not exactly, right?

I love what blogging did for me in the past - the free therapy, the friendships, the support, I am much in debt to this space and to all who drop by. But being a blogger sometimes means sharing pieces of ourselves with friends and strangers we might not otherwise share and let's face it - I am not usually a sharer. As much as I hate the word, but use it I must even at the risk of sounding cryptic, there are issues I need to work out that most days take center stage in this rattled brain of mine and are making it impossible to write something breezy or silly, or even heartfelt and memory capturing.

It's like a big old yellow road block complete with flashing lights and sirens. Annoying sirens. Really annoying sirens that sound like a Ke$ha song on constant repeat. Yes, that bad.

When faced with that it's nearly impossible to write something coherent and coherent writing is kind of the name of the game in blog land. Otherwise, it would all be "Lollipops molecule sod halitosis Squirrel!" It's already kind of like that around here.

I could also go on about the ways blogging and bloggers, specifically Mommy Bloggers, have changed since I started writing in 2005. Five years may not seem like a lot of time but it is light years away from where we started. But I'm not going to go on about it. It's been done, let's move on.

Maybe I need to quit or maybe I need to change my blog name or maybe I need a new scene. Maybe I need Prozac or Xanax or Wellbutrin or Red Bull or whatever else all the kids today are taking. Maybe I need a writing class to get the juices flowing... Okay clearly I need a writing class because, Juices Flowing? Ew.

Maybe I need to grow a set, stop being afraid, admit how I feel. Maybe I need to find my voice again.

Yeah, that's it. I need to find my voice again. It was here a minute ago. I'll go check the dryer lint trap and see if it's in there.