I know that from my total lack of new posts, I look like I’ve been HORRIBLY LAZY lately, but I swear, I haven’t been.
Okay, well that’s a lie. In the twelve days I didn’t work (because when our census is low, the PRN employees get cut first…it’s awesome. I’m poor.), I was way lazy at home. The house got SOOOO messy and I didn’t make our bed ONCE and I didn’t do ANY laundry and I watched a crazy number of movies, and two seasons of It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia (best show EVER, by the way).
Yeah, I’m a totally awesome wife and mother and housekeeper.
Anyway, so I was lazy that way, but in terms of social media, I’ve been so busy that I’m about to rip my hair out. I have pages and pages of snippets of posts and a whole notepad thing on my phone where I write down ideas that I think will translate into hilarious posts, and I have four different “real articles”…all totally full and ready, and I WILL get to them, and they WILL be awesome.
I’ve been spending all my time getting officially employed at Curvy Girl Guide (I KNOW!!! Holy crap, right?!), and submitting articles to them (one comes out tomorrow, and if I have ANY TIME between work and spending probably an hour on the phone with another totally awesome Kristen [who, I'm sure, will be ready to rip her own hair out as she wades through my utter ignorance as it pertains to techie/computer/HTML/website setup stuff. I'm surprised she hasn't blocked me on Twitter yet. Seriously, she's an astoundingly patient woman, considering how freaking annoying I've been tonight.] to fix me up with a new e-mail address and some Google Analytics nonsense, I will be writing a slightly-less-tactful and politically correct addendum to, on this here site in the evening).
You know, there wasn’t a single thing about that last paragraph that was grammatically correct. I don’t really care.
Anyway, I’ve been doing that, and being a mom (probably not the greatest mom), and working for the last three days in a row (I know, you’re thinking, cry me a river. I have no idea how any mom can work full-time outside the home. I am NOT cut out for it), and Meredith drunk dialed me again, and I’m finding out I’m a ton like her, only a little younger, and a whole lot less successful, and we talked about how stupid “the system” is and about how we both get crazy-angry when people are rude or offensive and we rant and get belligerent and, as Brittany calls it, “four seconds to ghetto.” And now we’re going to try and now blow up on the Internet, and maybe just call each other or something to rant instead…? Maybe. I don’t know what I’m saying right now.
All I know is that if I’m going to really make a go of this whole social-media-chick thing, I can’t be my normal, rant-y, totally belligerent, say-anything-I-want-impulsively-all-the-time self. I mean, I can still be myself, but I have to calm down a little. And play nice sometimes, even when I don’t want to.
Which I’m obviously not doing now. But whatever.
I’m so excited about my future in writing. Like, I’m pee-my-pants-in-public excited. I was asked to help contribute to a book on women’s self-image, and I already have a vague outline in mind for my submission. I’m jumping on board (Kristen, I swear, I’m going to start submitting stuff SO SOON) at this FANTASTIC new site called Ten to Twenty Parenting, where I already have my first article thing outlined in my head, and I can probably start scrawling it on scrap paper while I’m on the desk tomorrow, for the last-minute shift I picked up (LOVE my job and the money. HATE the fact that I have to get up at five-thirty.), because that’s how about half my posts get written. And now you know my secret.
Also, as soon as money starts coming in from CGG, the paychecks from all these shifts I’m picking up start coming in, and we just get generally stable in the bank account apocalypse that is the post-Christmas season, I’m going to hire (loosely put, it’s all verbal “contracting” at this point) a good friend from high school to redo my WHOLE SITE because that’s what her degree is in and she is fantastic and I will never stop talking her up, until the end of time, I freaking swear, I am SO THANKFUL that she’s agreeing to help me with this.
So that’s why my site looks so sterile right now. I’m tired of having one of the creative, but somehow still cookie-cutterish, backgrounds. Also, I’m a creature of habit, and I need to transition slowly into the new look.
And Andy’s trying to get me to write a book, which is FOR SURE on my bucket list (and has been since I was about twelve), but I have no effing clue what it would be about. All I know is it’ll be fictional. And probably disjointed, like everything else I ever write.
I may need to have an extensive conversation with Nuala about this, since she’s an actual, published-in-actual-hard-copy-print, knows what she’s doing, has written three (THREE!!!) novels (Nuala, if I’m butchering this, forgive me – it’s late, I need to get up early, and my mind is spiraling out of control).
This is a dream for me, you guys. Like, my actual fantasy, pipe dream job that I’ve had since before I even knew what a real job was.
Of course, when I realized what a real job was, that was when my dream went down the toilet because I thought there was no way I could possibly make enough money at it to support me or my family in any way. But I’ve told that story roughly twenty times already, so I don’t need to go over it again. Suffice it to say that it is BEYOND SURREAL to me that this is actual becoming a real, live possibility. I mean, my writing, by itself, won’t support the whole family (which, to be honest, is the only reason I’m still going to school to be a nurse right now), but it’s something!
Sooooo I probably missed a bunch of stuff that’s still buzzing around in my head that I wanted to tell you, but I have to end with this last thing that I think is particularly hilarious (because I fancy myself quite witty, you know), and then go to bed because five-thirty is going to come WAY too early.
So I talk to Andy a lot about the bloggers I’ve “met” in the last seven months. Some I talk to more than others. A few I follow pretty closely. I’ve had very meaningful exchanges with most of them. You know who you are. All of you are fantastic, and wonderful, and supportive, and just…awesome. You’re all the best. I’m so thankful to know all of you.
But I have been running into a problem: when I start referring to these people in conversation, I don’t know what to call them. I feel like calling them “friends” is getting too familiar, and I don’t want to feel or sound or look like a stalker, calling someone I haven’t met in person a friend. I don’t know, it’s complicated, and it has a lot to do with my TOTAL social ineptitude. It’s like…I always feel like people are fine being acquaintances with me, but I’m way too awkward and weird and annoying to be a true friend.
Oh my gosh, I’m typing this and “hearing” myself sound like such an idiot.
Let’s try again: I feel like people don’t want to be friends with me. They’re fine knowing me and acknowledging me if I’m around, but that’s it. I honestly feel like I’m always bothering everyone if I talk to them, and that nobody genuinely wants to have a conversation with me or be, like, a true friend of mine, and I feel like if they were to hear me refer to them as my “friend,” they’d get offended and think, Um…no. I know who she is, but we’re definitely not FRIENDS.
I’m going to stop myself before I go into the whole “I feel invisible, nobody likes me” pity-party thing (which I’ve been known to do once in a while) , and get to my point.
I need to find a comfortable way to refer to these people.
Blog-friends? Blogger friends? Online-type-friends? That one girl I know from that blog about _______? You know, that one where she _________?
So I figured it out. Friend + Blogger.
You are now officially all my Froggers.
You are so welcome.