Spoiled Only Child

I should probably delete this post

So here I was worrying about death and infirmity, and something completely unexpected came and whacked me on the back of the head. Politics. I am not the kind of person who takes politics personally. But we just had a school board election, and the people who won want to dramatically change our schools in a way that I think is unconscionable. And I can't do anything about it. These people who I don't support in any way are going to ruin our schools. My child will probably be OK, but the poor kids, the ones who live in disadvantaged neighborhoods, well, good luck to them. And we will all be poorer for that.

This election got me thinking that this whole far-right movement really is taking hold again, that less than a year after Bush left office, all the hope is disappearing in favor of the most polarized politics our country has ever seen. I mean, there are actually people--lots of people--who are prepared to kill health care reform just to make the president look bad. Something our country so desperately needs. If you don't like Obama's plan, then come up with an alternative, but please don't send crazy people out in the streets with signs saying "Hands off my healthcare!" It feels almost as if we've come to the end of the viability of the two-party system in America. This just isn't working anymore.

It's all making me start to wonder if this is even the kind of country where I want to live, the kind of place I want my daughter to grow up in. I am profoundly disillusioned with the selfishness that seems to permeate the American psyche. Who cares about the poor? Who cares about the uninsured? Just as long as I get mine. This goes totally outside the bounds of what I allow myself to write here, but I just cannot keep it inside. I have actually started to cry multiple times every day for the past three days thinking about this stuff. I am so afraid of where my country, my state, my county are headed. I just don't understand why those of us who have more can't seem to find the slightest bit of care for those who have less. But I guess it's more important to us to have five televisions, to have closets stuffed full of crap we don't need from Target, than to make sure that poor people have healthcare or decent schools for their kids. So we'll just build more jails and pay for more ER visits, all for the luxury of not having to give a shit about anyone else.

Acts of faith

I suddenly feel that there are so many millions of things in the world to write about, and I could just write volume after volume about anything and nothing and everything. But for today, I just wanted to say that I realized I've been writing on this blog for close to two years now. And for much of that time, it has felt a bit like shouting into the void. I have only a tiny number of readers, largely because I am very scared of being outed here. I have told only three of my friends about this place, along with Mr. SOC, who I don't think bothers to read. (Correct me if I'm wrong, honey.) My handful of loyal readers is precious to me, but they are really a very small handful.

But for some reason, my lack of readership has never discouraged me in the slightest. I have enjoyed writing here, whether anyone reads it or not. In a way, I see it as an act of faith. Faith that just writing the words was enough. Faith that I didn't need approval or popularity or anything else. All I needed was a blank slate, a place for things to emerge. And something has emerged. Not anything that I can put into words just yet. For now, I'll just say that I'm so happy to be here, groping around in the dark, writing just for the love of it.

Ground rules

I haven't been here in a while, have I? I think that's partly because I started wondering, WTF am I doing posting all this super-personal stuff on the internet? Most people have the good sense to keep most of this shit to themselves. But when I think about it, I'm really not saying anything here that I wouldn't tell someone over lunch, if they were interested in listening to all my personal ruminations — which most of them aren't. I've always been the kind of person who keeps very few secrets and has very little shame, as anyone who knows me can attest. I don't understand why so many people find the need to keep so much hidden. I'm not afraid of letting people know that I have faults and problems. Of course, there are people (mostly bosses and other professional contacts) who I would not want to see this blog. But that is why I keep it anonymous. So I guess I'm going to go on, for now, mostly because I think this space has helped me to work through some pretty important stuff in my life. This post, especially, represented a big turning point for me. There is something about writing for an audience that makes it much more powerful for me than writing a private journal, which I've never been able to do. Maybe I will eventually have a big enough audience that I can move to a password-protected Wordpress site. Someday.

For now, I'll just set a few ground rules that I think I've already been obeying for the most part:

1. No talking junk about people who might recognize themselves, even if I have no evidence to suggest that they read this blog or know it exists.
2. No talking about work.
3. No expressing opinions about politics or other issues even tangentially related to my work.

Some of these are so hard. I so want to tell you what I think about our new president, and I want to write about some of the amazing experiences I've had (visiting a slaughterhouse, attending the wedding of two refugees) but they would stray too much into the category of "Shit that could get me fired." And in this economy, I'd really prefer to stay employed. So please don't think I am shallow and self-absorbed because I am ignoring world events in favor of my own personal drama. I just can't go there.

OK, I feel refreshed. Back with more soon from inside the mind of Spoiled Only Child — like my new obsession with becoming partially vegan.

Comments that drive me nuts

Hardly anyone comments on my blog, so I'm going to take this opportunity to trash about 1/3 of the world's commenters, since I know that none of you will be implicated. I just need to vent. I read lots of blogs, and when I am really wasting time, I also read their comments. And there are a few ubiquitous comments that I wish I never had to see again. I'm sure there are more, but this is all I can think of at the moment.

1. "FIRST!!!" Anybody who uses their comment to talk about the fact that they are the first commenter, oh my god, get a life.
2. "OMG! You're so funny I just blew coffee out of my nose!" Why must so many people say that the post caused them to spit or blow liquids from their nose? How many times have you laughed so hard that you actually spit food or drink all over yourself? Maybe once or twice in your life? Maybe you are a particularly gregarious person, so let's say a dozen. But I don't see how it's possible that every mildly funny blog post causes 20 percent of commenters to cough/snort up their beverage. So not only are these comments unoriginal, I think the people who write them are lying.
3. "My thoughts exactly, but you say it so much more eloquently than me." If you can't think of anything to add to the discussion except, "Ditto! You're so much smarter than me!" maybe you should just remain on the sidelines quietly nodding.

Please do your part to eradicate such comments from the face of the earth.

Blogs for sale

More on the sleeping saga later, but I am so annoyed that I simply must vent my outrage. I must show that there are at least a few people out here on the internet who haven't been purchased by a videogame system that begins with the letter W. And no, I am not going to say the damned name, because if I see it on one more blog I'm going to vomit. Just about every mommyblogger I read has written about this damned gaming system in the past month or two, and now Dooce is doing a giveaway of the thing. Score the biggest coup on earth for the gaming system that shall remain nameless.

A couple of the bloggers, including Dooce, have admitted that the company solicited them with offers of free systems, and I give them credit for that. But most have simply woven it into their blogging, as if they were just writing about something they bought recently. And maybe it was. But it's all starting to look a bit suspicious, as every high-traffic blogger out there seems to have acquired one at the exact same time. I just hate, hate, hate the lust for stuff that has taken over every facet of our lives. Is any form of expression pure anymore, or is it just a veiled advertisement designed to make you feel you need some new gadget that will make you happy or whole?

Is it true? Will my whole life be transformed by the ability to play tennis in my living room? I'm sure many people will tell me yes, but I wonder what they're getting in exchange for saying so.

The war of the mommy bloggers

There has been a lot of fist-pumping on the internet lately about mommy blogging. Seems the mommy bloggers feel under attack, between the main-stream media doing a flurry of stories about how much money they're making off their websites (and giving them a bunch of free advertising in the process) and a bunch of jealous commenters telling them that they're exploiting their children for cash and free goodies. And then there are the kiss-ass commenters rushing to the defense of the mommy-bloggers. It's all gotten a bit out of hand.

Much of the controversy seems to center around the idea that the kids of these famous bloggers are going to be so pissed when they're 16 and all their friends are reading about the constipation they suffered at 18 months. I just don't know what to think about that. Everything's a balance, inclduding blogging. The mommy bloggers, most notably Dooce, have a counter-argument. When these kids grow up, they say, they are going to be so stoked about the amazing and empowering community that  bloggers created. They showed the world that moms are doing important and noble and difficult work, not just sipping cocktails and watching soap operas.

Obviously, I agree with this on some level. I spend a lot of time reading mommy blogs, and I'm kind of writing one myself here, although I think of it not as a mommy blog but as a blog about my life, which includes mothering. Plus, I don't stay home with the kid, so I can't qualify as a true mommy blogger. Plus, no one reads my website and I'm keeping everything anonymous, so I really, really don't count. Anyway... it is great to have a place where a woman can find a community of people who understand what she's going through and have been there too. It's great to see a true picture of what motherhood is like, rather than the glossy versions that many people like to tell to their real-life friends. Blogs help us realize how much we are alike, give us a sense of shared humanity. But I also think that mommy bloggers are showing some sides of themselves that aren't as empowering and complimentary as they'd like to think.

They're showing that they are petty and ready to pass judgment. How many times have you seen the comments of a blog taken over by women sniping about proper sleep training or potty training methods? Tertia had huge controversies over her admissions that she left her 3-year-old twins unattended in the bath for *gasp* seconds at a time. And then came the scandalous picture of her children riding their little trikes without helmets — or shoes. The mommy judges went nuts. Hundreds of comments, lots of vitriol. Have we all lost our minds?

They're showing their absolute love of stuff. The Target bulls-eye is practically a religious symbol among many mommy bloggers. Their love for the place is limitless. People wax eloquent about hand soap and faux designer bags. Some of it is so gushy you wonder if they are being paid to write it (and maybe they are). But even better than cool new stuff, or deeply discounted stuff, is stuff they got for free — from corporations that want to hijack their blogs to sell their stuff. They just can't get enough of bragging about their free cameras and free trips and free cars. So is this all about empowerment and free expression, about giving people a true unvarnished picture of motherhood? Or is it about raking in as many advertisers and as much free stuff as you can get, even if it means that your blog loses its authenticity? CityMama just admitted that she had a contract with an advertiser for the past year which didn't allow her to curse. Makes me wonder what her other contracts require. I think it's OK for people to make money from their blogs, but I think they need to have ethical guidelines and they need to state them upfront. It is not OK with me to tell me after the year is up that you've been under contract not to say certain things. I feel totally duped.

And, sometimes, they're also showing that they have a bit too much time on their hands. The amount of internet activity that some bloggers manage to maintain is absolutely stunning. They have time to write their own blogs, do Facebook, collaborate on two or three other sites, comment on dozens of other blogs, post pictures on Flickr, comment on other people's Flickr sites, respond to their own comments and there is probably more that I don't even know about. The number of people who take the time to write comments like, "Aww, how sweet." and "First commenter!" is kind of depressing. Isn't there something better, something truly inspiring, we could be doing with so much of our time? In the 50s and 60s, lots of women turned to alcohol and pills to fill the long isolated days. Now, I think it's internet addiction. I wonder how many moms have unhealthy attachments to their laptops that sometimes leave their kids sitting in front of videos for hours on end.

So there are my thoughts on mommy blogging. Not that you asked.

Well...

For my two readers, I still have a job. The layoffs were announced and, for the moment, I'm not affected. And I just got back from nine days in California, and I am tired and uninspired, but at least I am alive and employed. So I am not complaining today.

Life without blogs

Is almost over! Yes, I actually stuck with this pledge. A couple admissions: I probably spent more than my fair share of time on Smitten Kitchen (my one exempted blog). I mean, did I really need to read all 55 comments on the banana walnut carmel cake? Especially considering that I despise bananas, and don't really like caramel, and there isn't a chance in hell I'm ever going to make that cake? I think we all know the answer to that. I also had one very minor cheating incident. Every once in a while, I would go to my Bloglines page just to look at all those feeds building up (704 right now).And one day I saw that Loobylu was back, so I did have to spend about 10 minutes checking her out. But that was it. I swear to God!

I think this little experiment has been really, really good for me. No, I didn't suddenly find the time to learn Spanish and organize my closets and earn a master's degree. In fact, I felt as busy and stretched as ever. That hour or two a day seemed to just disappear into my life without me even noticing it. But I  also didn't start every day in a state of inertia that I had to climb out of. Aside from the first week of withdrawal, I have been far more productive at work--and that just makes me a happier person in general. I've also been expending a lot less mental energy on the minutia of other people's lives. I haven't gotten pissed off or annoyed at people I don't even know, I haven't worried about their reproductive problems and I haven't compared my life to theirs. It's been a healthy respite.

But the one thing I really missed was, after a busy day, being able to relax for a while with my laptop, escape into the lives of others, see how they were like me and how they weren't. And, probably, reading blogs would have been a better use of my time than playing online solitaire, which became a bit of an unhealthy obsession on a couple afternoons. So on Sunday, I will be relishing my freedom to read about Julie's pregnancy and Julia's twins and Sweet Juniper's new baby and the Yarn Harlot's latest project. But here are my new rules for blogs:

1. No reading blogs until after lunch. Never, ever, ever, no matter what, look at them first thing in the a.m. It really starts my day on the wrong path every time.

2. The Bloglines list is going to get shorter. The following are coming off:

• People who annoy me. We all know we have these people, that for some odd reason, we can't stop reading. They're know it alls, or they're holier than thou, or whatever. If I find myself pissed off after reading someone, they're coming off.
• Blogs that have gotten overly commercial. I don't oppose advertising, but there are some people who seem to be using their blogs as a vehicle to get free stuff. Sometimes it seems like their fame, and the advertising that comes with it, have destroyed the integrity of their blogs, which were supposed to be about the lives of regular people.
• People who never stop talking about their wonderful heartwarming friendships with other well-known bloggers. Sometimes it feels like a middle school popularity contest out there, with everyone trying to show that they're best friends with the cool kids.
• Blogs that I really don't like that much, but I keep on hand just for extra procrastination material.

Here I go, back into blogland, hoping I can take a drink without becoming an alcoholic again. (But not until Sunday.)

Fingers in ears

It happens almost every day. I read something, or hear an interview on the radio, and I get the itch to write. I crave the release of sitting down at the keyboard and letting it all out--all the things that I would write, could write, if only I had the time and the space and the I-don't-even-know-what. I compose paragraphs in my head, and they are perfect. And then when I finally sit down with a blank page--often after days or weeks of feeling the itch, of telling myself I should write, I need to write--my mind is utterly blank. And then I think, well, maybe my life is too ordinary. Maybe I really don't have anything to write about. Why am I pressuring myself? Isn't there something to be said for the unexamined life, anyway?

But I think I've just been stuck. I think I just cannot get the critic out of my head, the voice that says it will never be good enough. It will never be what you want. When I was younger, I always fancied myself the burgeoning young writer. Now, I make a living with my writing. People say I am a good writer. And yet I spend my time looking at the writing of others, thinking that I just don't have it in me to be as good as they are. Thinking that maybe I'm not so good as I thought I was. And maybe I'm not. But it's time to try. Because there's nothing I hate more than a person who is constantly complaining about all the things they would do if only they had time, if only they had a dedicated room and more money and specialized equipment and a  sunbeam shining down from heaven to light their workspace.

A novelist I know once told me that what it takes to become a published author is less talent and inspiration than sheer perseverance. It's getting up at 5 in the morning if you have to, stealing the time to write. It's saying "Fuck it. I know this is going to suck, but I am going to sit here and do it anyway." Though I can't yet commit to getting up at 5 in the morning (God, please tell me I'll never have to get up at 5 in the morning!), this is my first step. I'm sitting here writing, even though there is a crowd of voices in my head, all of them telling me that this is no good. They're asking me why I'm writing, when there's no one out there reading. They're telling me that I will never be as good as the others. They're telling me that I'm a whiner, that no one will ever want to read my self-absorbed crap. But I'm still here. I'm still typing.

I know that the way to get people to read your blog is to comment on other blogs, ones that people actually read. But I am afraid. I don't know if this is ready for anyone to see. I haven't even told my husband about it yet. So I'll give myself some time to find my voice, and to quiet all those others that are shouting in my ear.

Dreaming of waffles

Last night I dreamed that I posted some morose contemplation about the meaning of life. And then I wanted to punch myself in the face. Even I know that nobody wants to listen to me whine all the time. But then, what am I supposed to do with all my whining? Bottle it up, suffer in silence? Just not my style. And there are some other bloggers who seem to be doing quite well serving up a heap of fresh bitching and moaning every week. So maybe there is a future in this. Wah, my life sucks. I have a happy marriage, a healthy adorable kid, a nice house and two cups of gourmet coffee every morning. Why is life so hard?

Is it possible that I started this blog just as I was hitting bottom professionally? And now I am on my way up? I am feeling much better right now. Less, "Every day is a step closer to death and I'm wasting my time!" and more "Life is a journey and I'm making positive steps, and ooh, those pumpkin waffles sure look good."

I think it was Tiffany who once said that if anyone ever got inside her head, they would realize she spends most of her time thinking about what she's going to eat next. That may be the truest thing I've ever read. I swear, food occupies 75 percent of my brain's real estate. I really cannot understand people who go around using their spare brain space to think about politics and pandemic flu and climate change and curing cancer and helping the poor and all that crap. I'm going to a career counselor, and she asked me what things I do that leave me feeling really satisfied, and I swear, all I could think of was cooking a good meal. The other night, I hadn't planned anything for dinner and hadn't been in the store in a week, and I decided I would pull something together from what I had on hand. I made garlic soy chicken with rice, roasted carrots and broccoli. Everyone loved it and licked their plates (even the two year old) and I cannot even describe the feeling of pride and accomplishment I had. Is that pathetic? Did I just set the women's movement back 50 years?