Queen B

Posts Tagged ‘blogging’

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First, do no wrong

In Random nonsense, Self-deprecating humor on July 31, 2009 at 10:09 am

Yea, yea. I’m supposed to post every day. I figure that only applies when someone is actually READING this stuff, right? I mean, aside from my dear husband and fantastical site designer, right? Regardless, sorry for the many-day delay in posting, virtual world…

So I have had a fabulous week so far. It’s actually been one of those weeks that feel like an ongoing weekend for some reason. I think it’s because I have worked strange hours, taken a day off unexpectedly, and hooked up with old friends, all the while enjoying perfect summer weather (Chicago summer, anyhow). Even with all of this great stuff going on, I struggle over what I should write.

Truly I think that I have LOTS to say, but I’m in a self inflicted state of fear that I’m going to offend, and some of the things I WOULD say might offend either family or friends, sometimes even strangers (gasp!). I realize that I can’t go through life without offending people some of the time, obviously. I have been told that I am a “pleaser.” I know that I spend a lot of time apologizing for things. Usually there is someone around to tell me to “stop saying you’re sorry,” especially when it’s for something that is out of my control or not my doing. I’m good for following that up with another ‘I’m sorry.’ It’s like swearing in front of children, I can’t stop myself!! I am constantly working on it. Sometimes I do much better, and sometimes it seems like I’m in a perpetual state of feeling sorry. So we’ve come full circle, once again I am struggling with the whole concept of blogging and putting myself out there!! I am in a constant state of internal angst and struggle. Sometimes I feel like I am so broken, and I don’t know how to fix this stuff.

Yep, a whole week, and this is what comes out. Sorry about that. Seriously.

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Be the Pig!

In Nothing to it but to do it on July 13, 2009 at 6:26 pm

So now that I have to write something for a blog I’m petrified I have nothing to say.

Yes, I can talk incessantly.  Yes, voice mail systems have to cut me off mid-sentence at the ten minute mark.  Yes, I have opinions as long as the day, and the ability and propensity to spew them about until eyes glaze over and people start inventing places they forgot they suddenly need to go to.  Yes, I’m loud.  AND I interrupt.  You don’t want honesty?  Don’t ask me.  Seriously.  And although I can get mounds and piles and loads of work done, bets are that I could do more if I would shut up.  Secretly, I’m sure my boss feels the same way.  Oh wait, that’s not a secret.

However… I was born, and have lived my life, as a person who is painfully shy.  I realize that I hide it (really, really well) on the inside.  Way, way, way down deep inside.  So far down that most people who know me well don’t even believe me when I tell them I’m shy.  I get that same look that people give me when I say “No thank you, I don’t like potatoes.”  Not even mashed potatoes with gravy?  Not even on Thanksgiving?  What about french fries?  You have to eat baked potatoes….  Nonetheless, I don’t generally put myself out there so much.  I don’t often have any interest in increasing my awareness of the judgments that others have of me.  So to blog?  Scary stuff.

As my roomie puts it quite often:  At breakfast, the chicken is involved, but the pig is committed.

Oink, oink.

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