Bloggity blog blog blog

So this is hell late, but I really wanted to share my favourite bloggers, as requested by Eden and her Fresh Horses thingy.  I’ve had no time to blog recently, and there’s no reason in particular, I have just been doing a lot of stuff with the Dude, getting new routines in place, going to appointments and mothers’ groups, bla bla bla…

Anyway, so yet again Eden speaks my language; shit, my shit is on the shitting internet, shit! It’s forever, it’s the internet, shit! And so on. Meh, sometimes I don’t care, sometimes I wonder if it will come back to bite me.  But I keep doing it.  Why? Good freaking question.  It’s about writing for me, my writing.  I guess at some level, every writer wants an audience, even if it’s totally self-indulgent (like this blog malarky).  It’s this odd contradiction.  On the one hand I feel like I have a heap of stuff to say about, well, stuff, you know, myself mainly, let’s face it, and I HAVE to get it out.  And my husband doesn’t want to hear every little stupid idea or rant I have.  I kind of feel like the internet cares, just a bit.  And of course I’m under no illusions that most of the internet doesn’t give two shits.  But yeah, there’s something cathartic about throwing all your stuff out to the world and letting it settle wherever and however.  I like that, it’s so random and yet I don’t believe in random, so it’s so serendipitous.  If that makes sense.  I write because I’ve been compelled to write my whole life.  I used to sit at the table with my mum before I could read or write, before I went to school, and copy out the newspaper headlines in crayon on my big sheets of old computer paper (remember that stuff, with the holes down the sides and perforation so you could tear them off?).  I have piles of these things with sometimes confusing but often interesting headlines scratched out in green and blue.  For some reason it’s usually something about the Raiders… which means I was probably copying the sports section.  Hmm.

Anyway, I always wrote stories, and more importantly I always wrote diaries; to the point of obsession.  I have this fascination with documenting everything, so even my to-do lists are dated, and sometimes even have the time written at the top.  Pointless?  Yeah, perhaps, but there’s something oh so cool and time-travel-ish about finding a random little scrap of paper with a list of ‘what I have to get done next week’ from ten years ago.  A little snapshot of my own life, a moment in time captured, however mundane.  I used to make myself time capsules ‘to be opened no earlier than 5 October 1999 when you are 21’, envelopes sticky taped up with wax seals and warnings of ‘do not open yet’ scrawled across the back.  I recorded tapes of myself talking about my life, where I was at, what I hoped and dreamed, who I liked, what I was struggling with, where I expected to be when the tape was listened to again in however many years.  Sometimes they were only short periods of time.  I once went through a phase of doing monthly time capsule notes to myself on the first of every month, then at the end of a year I read back through them.

I can still remember my very first official diary entry: ‘Dear Diary, I got you as a Christmas present from my mum…’  In fact I can tell you the exact date that entry was made: 25 December 1988, age ten.  At the time I thought starting a diary at ten made sense, seemed like the next phase.  My second entry was a lamentation about being made to give away one of my Christmas presents to ‘the poor children’.  I’m still angry that I never owned Cluedo but for those five minutes after opening it under the tree, only to be told I had to choose which present to give away.  No idea what moral lesson my mum and her asshole boyfriend at the time were trying to teach but all it did was make me bitter about not getting to play Cluedo.

I discovered blogs ages ago, but didn’t actually start blogging myself until probably four or five years ago. I didn’t really know what my blog would be about, in fact I still have no idea and have changed the name more times than I can count.  I used to have two blogs, one about baby/parenting/birth stuff and this one, which was more about writing and general crapping on about me, but then I decided it was better to just lump everything in together, so I actually moved all the posts from my other blog to this one, changing to dates to when I originally posted them (yeah, again with the date thing).  I have this weird thought that people might try and stalk me or whatever, like I wonder how other, more prominent bloggers do it, talk about their personal home life, where they live, and use their full names and those of their kids.  I don’t know.  I’ve written about this before anyway.

My favourite blog of all time has to be Soulemama.  Gawd she is awesome!  I so want to go live in Maine (I think that’s where she lives) and have snow and knit things.  That is almost my ideal life.  I save up her posts and then read eight or nine at a time, so I can get lost in the awesomeness of it all.

Recently I’ve been enjoying the hilarity of The Bloggess, and although I don’t get to read it as often as I’d like I think it’s pure comedy gold and I’m still laughing about her tweeting celebrities to ask them for pictures of themselves holding twine. Twine! See the comedy?

And I’m not sucking up or anything but I have to say my number three (in no particular order) favourite blog is Edenland.  Truly!  I just like the way she writes, I like the stuff she talks about, and so many of her musings really resonate with me.  Her stuff inspires me and makes me think and want to write more on my blog.  She doesn’t mince words, she doesn’t talk shit or be pretentious and she is funny and insightful and intelligent.  And she rarely lets spelling and grammar mistakes get in the way, which makes her writing even more pleasurable to read.  Thanks dude, you rock!  And by the way, a cache is the memory of your computer.  So if you went to a page, it caches it, remembers it, so if you’re offline and you go back it’ll show it, whatever it’s remembered.  But I actually prefer Eden’s definition: the collective noun for blog posts. eg. ‘Today I read a cache of posts.’  It works.

Here’s a button thingy that lets you see what other people said about this if you click on it.  Or you could just go to Edenland and read.  Yeah, I know, I don’t get it either, but here it is anyway.

Edenland's Fresh Horses Brigade


Author: curiosikat

Writer, editor, linguist, social historian...

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