I write a blog. It is as much therapy as any hobby. OK, that's a lie--it's way MORE therapy than any other hobby, unless your hobby is, in fact, therapy. Personally, I could appreciate a hobby like that...go somewhere, kvetch and complain...nobody tells you to stop your whining, or get over it, or anything that isn't constructive and helpful. Aaaah.....what a great hobby that would be.
But I don't have that hobby. I write a blog.
For those of you reading on Facebook, maybe you didn't know the blog was even here. Maybe you thought I just did this stuff for Facebook. Nope.
In the four-plus years I have been writing the blog, a lot has happened in my life, and, I'm a big enough person to say that I alone am responsible for almost all of it--the bad as much as the good. We live, we learn, right? And a lot of what you read on the blog is just me spewing and sorting things out, out loud. Some of it is more thought out, but a lot of it is just vent, vent, vent. Hopefully, the venting is done in an amusing manner.
For those reading on Facebook, I want you to know that I was very, VERY hesitant to push the button that allowed the blog to feed into my FB profile. It was a huge deal, and I consider reversing that decision, just about every day. That was the one really, really new thing about 2009, for me--a little Writer Coming Out party.
"Hey, family and friends from high school! Get a load of this!"
I have lived a good portion of my life as a public person, and the blog itself is ultimately meant for entertainment in that vein, but just like anyone expressing a strong opinion about anything out loud, to more than just a couple of people, there is always the danger of offending, or just flat-out confusing someone. Before the blog feed came to Facebook, I had enjoyed being able to rant and rave and have certain people visit because they agreed with what I was saying, and nobody else really knew about it, or didn't make the trip. I was more than OK with that. It's not that I was here complaining about people specifically, and it was in no way anonymous, it was just that I knew that the only people who would see it were those who sought it out and could relate to it on some level.
You know...my people. They like to drink and cuss and stuff.
On Facebook, we're all here. It's not just people who found me because of the writing, it's people who have known me forever--some from before I was even born, many from before there ever was a blog, and almost none of whom had ever read it. That is somewhat scary business to me, because the blog itself follows a rather specific story line, not necessarily related to people I know from various jobs, or, my family, or whatever. There IS a story in there--a lot of history has been revealed, and after four years, the recurring characters are very well defined. It is not necessarily a place where one can drop in occasionally--in fact, I'll go so far as to say that if you haven't been reading it a while, you're not going to get all the jokes, or understand all of the references.
Stick around, though--the drinks are cold, and, we're a hell of a good time.
I was worried that posting things to Facebook all of a sudden would be like having someone watch just the last ten minutes of a movie--you don't know all of what went on beforehand, you're a bit lost on the plot, and you haven't had all of the necessary lead-in to make you care about whatever crazy thing the hero is going through at the moment.
That being said, we all have to start somewhere.
When I hear a musical artist that I like and have never heard before, I make it a point to dig in to the "back story". I buy a bunch of their older albums--really anything I can get my hands on--and check them out chronologically. For me, that is the best way to honor what they are doing now--by learning how they got here. And if I am lucky enough to catch someone early on, like Indigo Girls, for example, there is literally NOTHING as a fan that brings me more delight than having that front row seat, album to album, to witness their continuing growth as artists. Some of the subject matter is intimate and might be about some scary or uncomfortable things, but all of the songs are triumphs. It's like watching your children learn how to walk, and I find myself being so proud of them for every bold musical step forward.
And so it has been with the bloggy-blog--consider it documentation of me learning to walk. And also, learning to write. And it's not for everyone, just like maybe Indigo Girls are not for everyone. There are elements that not everyone will like or agree with. For over four years, I haven't cared one iota about what anybody thinks of the blog, or my vision, or whatever essay or other written product that vision might create.. It was a product that I created, just like weaving a rug, and I was proud enough of it to put it out there. That has not, and will not change, or be muted in any way. There is always the danger of someone on Facebook saying, "Gee, I used to think she was so nice, when we went to school together/worked together (or whatever) but after reading that..." and they suddenly think you're a psycho. News flash: I AM nice! I'm very nice. And, I'm also a psycho. And I'm also smart and insightful, and funny. And I have boundless energy. Sometimes, I might have a drink or two I am also a writer, and, this is what I write. And as long as it's my name on the header, and not yours, don't you worry about it...
Here are a few of the finer points from Barely Contained for 2009... (links will connect to the blog, not the Facebook notes...)
Deep and Weird. The highest compliment.
Pic McPicNess (Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam...I had forgotten about this one...the raving cuteness...he's pretty much the best thing I've ever looked at. In fact, part of the reason 2009 sucked at times is because there was no Look At Sam time.)
Mother Mother (Mother's Day)
KLF! Uh-huh, Uh-huh... (I dunno...every time I think of "KLF" I think of that song. This is actually about a Dave Matthews concert at 10KLF. Actually, it's about some junk not entirely related to Dave Matthews, but Dave just happened to be there.)
And as for 2010, well, what can I say? Game on, bitches! Game on...