Decemberist

I took some time today to reflect on the little things and this is the listicle I came up with:

1. I went to NYC twice this year (for work).

2. I’ve had at least 365 brilliant ideas and the year is not even over yet. Watch out 2012!

3. I would rather be me every day than someone other people expect me to be for even one second.

4. The grass can be the perfect shade of green if you use just enough fertilizer.

5. I may love even numbers, but I still hate math.

6. Sometimes I get accused of being negative when really, I’m just being honest. For those who agree, please refer to number three and feel free to forget my existence.

7. I accidentally dropped a rhyme in that last one. Poetry in motion.

8. I forgot what eight was for.

9. I love being more right-brained.

10. This list was just my silly way of saying, happy first day of the last day of the month.

Tags: December, On being me, Reflection, Silly Sharpe

Pay No Attention to the Blogger Behind the Curtain

 I have been writing almost everyday since I was very young. I started when my  Stepmother gave me one of the best birthday presents ever. I was 7 years old and my parents were in a War of the Roses style divorce. The present was a book filled with blank pages to write in and a black and white cover which you could color in yourself. I remember drawing and writing while locked in my bedroom. 

I wish I still had that book today. I can only imagine what kind of interesting detail I would have about during those years. Surely, there was some mention of why this woman was buying me a book when my parents divorce was barely finalized and she was already engaged to my father? Maybe I wrote about the time my brothers handcuffed me to the stairs and left the house for several hours? I could not tell you because I eventually destroyed the book.

Somedays I have vivid memories of my tumultuous childhood and feverishly write (or type) whatever comes to my mind. I have known since the day I received that empty book and after keeping a journal for over 20 years that I wanted to be a writer. When I started my first blog in 2005, I knew this was a great way to express myself and actually publicize some of my writing. Unfortunately, I was informed that the majority of my content was not necessarily the stuff Corporate dreams were made of. My day job was getting in the way of my dream job. I was approached by management and told to keep my thoughts to myself (urgh). 

Impossible. I started writing mostly on MySpace ignorantly thinking they would never find me if I hid my name. In 2006 my alter ego, Randomly Fabulous, took over and created a page on Blogspot. I loved her! She was the me I could not be at the time. Always honest, whip smart and ridiculously fabulous. I never paid a lot of attention to other bloggers or the blogs that told you how to blog. I found that distracted me from what I really wanted to do which was write and be me. I connected with my audience without any promotion or attempt to monetize the blog. I felt so liberated with my writing. I loved feeling like a part of me was out there even if it was semi-anonymous. I always used the same nicknames like calling my little brother Punk Rock or talking about The DJ. It could have been called Randomly Obvious. I didn’t care. I just loved writing.

I have every post saved, but sadly it’s not live anymore. I began to fear The Man. The industry I was working in at the time was very volatile and it was suggested that I take down all social media sites or make them private. I often told people my stalkers were to blame for the impulse removal of years worth of writing, but the truth is I did not want to lose my job or potential future endeavors. Thanks to the economy my job was eliminated anyway. It left me free to write whatever I wanted. Sort of. I still have to think about what future employers or perspective clients might think.

Which leads me to the point of this post (in case you wondered if I had one)… I have had a lot of conversations this week with people that want to know why I am not “writing” and I started to feel like some disclosure was necessary. The truth is, I am writing. Always. I am just not posting. Somewhere in the past year my neurosis took over and I feel a little lost inside myself. It’s not writers block because the words come to me everyday. It’s personal.

I’m dealing with what life has handed me in a less public manner (which totally sucks). Lately, most of my writing has revolved around darker days. I choose not to write a series of Debby Downer posts on here. I have bad days. I have bad months. I have bad breath first thing in the morning or after eating Sushi. I am not a bad writer though because I take a post pause for an undefined amount of time. There are no rules despite what you read on other blogs. Post frequency is entirely up to the author. On my professional or freelance writing projects, obviously I recommend posting more.  

Thank you to all that have reached out! I am so flattered that people enjoy my writing and care enough to ask for more. I am a notorious people pleaser, so ask and you shall receive. This was just little Friday night share for those that care. 

xo

Tags: Blah Blah Blah, Blog Pause, Friday Night Share, Journals, People Pleaser, Reflection, writing, Writing vs Posting