;)
Monday
Feb222010
Outside, Looking In
Monday, February 22, 2010 at 4:07PM
I didn't get to attend the Mom 2.0 Summit in Houston this weekend because I've only lived in Houston for three months, and still don't know my neighbors' names, let alone who can babysit for me long enough to go get schooled. I did, however, get to attend some of the later-night get-togethers, and I got to watch the conference over twitter.
I took a bit away from this weekend's conference; less than the attendees, but more than I expected to.
In one of the sessions, I couldn't tell you which one, Goon Squad Sarah kicked out this little gem:
And I felt that. Apparently, she started her blog so she could have a blogspot account to comment on someone else's site. And now she's doing what she does so so good. I've always held that one should do what one does well, and what I do well is cocktail waitress. So that's what I always did. I held my head as high as one can as a professional waitress and acknowledged that some people can balance ledgers and some people can design buildings and some people can remember 1000 people's drink orders at the same time, and all of those things are valuable contributions to society. I never, not in a million years, guessed that I could write. In fact, when I met my husband, he was trying to write the Great American Novel and I was trying to get promoted to full time bartender. But here I am, however many years later, writing for a living in corporate America and writing for shits and giggles on the internet and trying, and failing, to write the Great American Non-Fiction book.
And I just never thought that anyone else started into this thing, not knowing they could do it. Not caring if they could do it. Not trying to "be a writer", just trying to leave a goddamn comment on Google's ridiculously un-navigable comment forms.
I also learned, from sitting on the peripheral, that I think it may be time for me to think about exiting the blogosphere.
I don't mean that in a whiny, talk-me-out-of-it way, I just mean that I listened and watched as these women, these serious, professional women, did something. I looked around at my peer group online and realized that I've been doing this a lot longer than most of these women, but have actually done less in my time online. I looked at amazing photographs delicately framed on walls, and I followed streams from packed panels behind grand hotel doors, and I saw my own shortcomings. Sure, I have a fantastic following of what I think are some of the greatest minds online, but outside our little black-on-white world here, I'm not doing anything. I'm talking to myself, and you all are kind enough to listen. But no one's asking me to speak at their conference, and no one's hanging my pictures in galleries, and no one's invited me to write on the mega-online website for women, and I know that it doesn't matter because that's not ultimately why I'm here, but when I sit squarely facing those women who have been doing this as long as I have and I see how far they've come, how much they've accomplished, I wonder what the fuck it is I'm doing dumping a bunch of time and energy into something that doesn't really matter when I could, and apparently should, be doing a whole fucking lot more, based strictly on comparison of ROI. I know I can write, I know I can write amazingly well when I try, and even though I've been doing it publicly for FIVE YEARS, it's not getting me anywhere, when it is most certainly getting mostly everyone I know somewhere indeed. Maybe it's not why I think I'm here, but it could be why I'm supposed to think I'm here, you know?
Washing my dishes right now would actually do something for me, and yet I'm typing this. I think my priorities are grossly askew.
Also, this is not up for debate, so skip the comments on it, please. It's just me thinking outloud.
Lastly, I realized that, to a large degree, I hide behind my camera in public. I learned that I like the narrow, grey lensey take on reality much more than the actual, real reality right in front of me. I realized that I am much more comfortable documenting that I am experiencing, because it allows be to be no where near involved in the moment I am standing in the middle of. My camera gives me a reason for being wherever it is that I am, so I never actually have to be there on my own merits. It's my introduction and my segue and my crutch. How did I realize this? Because once it was all said and done, once I was home and tucked back within my own, quiet walls, I noticed that I'd taken 305 usable pictures at BlogHer, and ONE at Mom 2.0.
Because I wasn't hiding, and I wasn't filtering. I wasn't uncomfortable, and I wasn't afraid, and I wasn't intimidated. I don't think I tripped over my tongue in front of Mom 101 once like I usually do, and I made an absolute fool of myself when I met Momslant and I was totally okay with that. Gwenbell got a hearty fistbump, and at best Laura Meyes got a frantic wave across a crowded room. And I was okay. I didn't hide and I didn't lurk and I didn't worry, for once. I didn't feel like the odd man out for once. I was with my peers, with women whom I respect and admire, women who normally scare the shit out of me with their incredibly beautiful minds, and I was humbled and inspired and unafraid.
For once in my life, I walked into something and I wasn't documenting it....I was entirely too busy living it.
I took a bit away from this weekend's conference; less than the attendees, but more than I expected to.
In one of the sessions, I couldn't tell you which one, Goon Squad Sarah kicked out this little gem:
And I felt that. Apparently, she started her blog so she could have a blogspot account to comment on someone else's site. And now she's doing what she does so so good. I've always held that one should do what one does well, and what I do well is cocktail waitress. So that's what I always did. I held my head as high as one can as a professional waitress and acknowledged that some people can balance ledgers and some people can design buildings and some people can remember 1000 people's drink orders at the same time, and all of those things are valuable contributions to society. I never, not in a million years, guessed that I could write. In fact, when I met my husband, he was trying to write the Great American Novel and I was trying to get promoted to full time bartender. But here I am, however many years later, writing for a living in corporate America and writing for shits and giggles on the internet and trying, and failing, to write the Great American Non-Fiction book.
And I just never thought that anyone else started into this thing, not knowing they could do it. Not caring if they could do it. Not trying to "be a writer", just trying to leave a goddamn comment on Google's ridiculously un-navigable comment forms.
I also learned, from sitting on the peripheral, that I think it may be time for me to think about exiting the blogosphere.
I don't mean that in a whiny, talk-me-out-of-it way, I just mean that I listened and watched as these women, these serious, professional women, did something. I looked around at my peer group online and realized that I've been doing this a lot longer than most of these women, but have actually done less in my time online. I looked at amazing photographs delicately framed on walls, and I followed streams from packed panels behind grand hotel doors, and I saw my own shortcomings. Sure, I have a fantastic following of what I think are some of the greatest minds online, but outside our little black-on-white world here, I'm not doing anything. I'm talking to myself, and you all are kind enough to listen. But no one's asking me to speak at their conference, and no one's hanging my pictures in galleries, and no one's invited me to write on the mega-online website for women, and I know that it doesn't matter because that's not ultimately why I'm here, but when I sit squarely facing those women who have been doing this as long as I have and I see how far they've come, how much they've accomplished, I wonder what the fuck it is I'm doing dumping a bunch of time and energy into something that doesn't really matter when I could, and apparently should, be doing a whole fucking lot more, based strictly on comparison of ROI. I know I can write, I know I can write amazingly well when I try, and even though I've been doing it publicly for FIVE YEARS, it's not getting me anywhere, when it is most certainly getting mostly everyone I know somewhere indeed. Maybe it's not why I think I'm here, but it could be why I'm supposed to think I'm here, you know?
Washing my dishes right now would actually do something for me, and yet I'm typing this. I think my priorities are grossly askew.
Also, this is not up for debate, so skip the comments on it, please. It's just me thinking outloud.
Lastly, I realized that, to a large degree, I hide behind my camera in public. I learned that I like the narrow, grey lensey take on reality much more than the actual, real reality right in front of me. I realized that I am much more comfortable documenting that I am experiencing, because it allows be to be no where near involved in the moment I am standing in the middle of. My camera gives me a reason for being wherever it is that I am, so I never actually have to be there on my own merits. It's my introduction and my segue and my crutch. How did I realize this? Because once it was all said and done, once I was home and tucked back within my own, quiet walls, I noticed that I'd taken 305 usable pictures at BlogHer, and ONE at Mom 2.0.
Rachel from A Southern Fairytale, who is exactly as lovely as she looks.
Because I wasn't hiding, and I wasn't filtering. I wasn't uncomfortable, and I wasn't afraid, and I wasn't intimidated. I don't think I tripped over my tongue in front of Mom 101 once like I usually do, and I made an absolute fool of myself when I met Momslant and I was totally okay with that. Gwenbell got a hearty fistbump, and at best Laura Meyes got a frantic wave across a crowded room. And I was okay. I didn't hide and I didn't lurk and I didn't worry, for once. I didn't feel like the odd man out for once. I was with my peers, with women whom I respect and admire, women who normally scare the shit out of me with their incredibly beautiful minds, and I was humbled and inspired and unafraid.
For once in my life, I walked into something and I wasn't documenting it....I was entirely too busy living it.
Reader Comments (56)
I still don't think you should exit. You DO write very, very well.
And you know what else? I rarely get asked to speak at conferences. I send them proposals. They don't come to me, I go to them.
It might be for selfish reasons, but I think you should stay. Live more and document less. Don't leave, just balance better.
I have been feeling the same way; I know I am good, really, and am sometimes excellent, but there are other people who do it so much better, and really, I am never going to be published, never going to write that book, never going to be famous. Shitfire, I don't even have readers anymore-so I don't know why I keep trying. So-I just say that to tell you that I hear you, sister.
Life is meant to be lived out loud. And pages ripped from our life-books are greatly enjoyed when we take the time to share them- in person and online.
We each bring a little something different to the table; this is a potluck, dammit. Your sippy cup would be missed, even if I am taking a break from whiskey for a bit.
I'm not going to debate anything with you because I have a strong sense that I would lose and I am a very bad loser. ;) I want to tell you publicly though (because I can?) that you are someone whom I look up to so much as a creative force AND a creator AND a connector in this whacked out online world. I was so happy to see you this weekend because I just like talking to you, that simple. I also think you are the best kind of writer there is, such a good and true and gifted one and at the risk of sounding like the crappiest movie in the world you make me want to be a better writer when I read you. And if you haven't gotten any ROI (whatever that is or means) then we truly do live in backwards land. Which, yes, I know we do. So.
You live, so much and so deeply and I never leave a pile of your words behind without feeling something. You have made my ovaries hurt for wanting to be the kind of mom you are. Your commitment to your friends jumps through my screen. I totally ripped this idea off from you and I had gotten OUT of the habit of making any kind of special effort to write about my friends because I felt like it might be and show too much but instead it turned into one of my favorite things I wrote all year (also apropos of your link above.):
http://www.lauriewrites.com/weblog/2009/12/sarah-.html
I'll get off of that tip now.
I tried to set the camera down some this weekend too. It didn't work very well though. A bit of an addict. :)
I said in my panel (the same one as Sarah, which I still can't believe they let me on, for real) that Lisa Stone let me write for her five years ago for absolutely no reason and I just keep doing stuff as a result of that and I'm really not sure why but it is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Because what it has given me is this circle of people that make my life so much better and I may never (and have never) gotten paid for an ad but that's what I've gotten and it's the best paycheck ever.
I have gone on too much. I am so glad I got to give you a hug, that's really all. :)
Here's the deal. I respect you and what you do here. You are a badass that paved the way for the rest of us. That counts for something.
I can also remember people's drinks like nobody's business. I could probably get a gold medal in Drink Remembering, you know, if it was an event outside of my job.
xoxoxo.
Not debating you exactly, but just tossing some hors deouvres for thought out there. Is it really *everything* to blog with a noble purpose? Is the point of blogging to make a career for oneself? To right wrongs? To facilitate justice? To hone one's craft? To document one's life? To write letters to one's friends? To share family events with other family members far away? To complain about other bloggers?
There is NO one answer. Blogging is ALL OF THESE. You are not other bloggers, you are YOU and you are terrific at being uniquely yourself. Why do you have to be in a different category to define what you do as successful?
You have a terrific writing voice. It appeals to me because I love sarcasm and biting wit and passionate parenting and relationships and all that shit. Sometimes you write shit that I think is inspiring. Sometimes wickedly funny and I try to remember that I'm at work and to not laugh so loud. Sometimes poignant and I ache for you. Sometimes smart and I sit here thinking "dear GOD, I am so dumb. How come I didn't think of that?"
So even if you weren't looking for feedback...I'm a-throwin' it out there anyway. I deeply and sincerely hope you do not go away. I would miss you profoundly.
This little corner of the internet that you've created IS a contribution to society. I think a whole slew of people would agree with me. Just thinking out loud.
It makes me sad to think that we all have to ACCOMPISH SOMETHING (tum-da-duuuuummm!) on the internet. Why isn't it enough to write for ourselves (and in your case the thousands of people who look forward to your posts?) Why isn't self-expression, and creation, and shared experience enough?
You do what you do incredibly well; you are unique in a sometimes pretty humdrum blogosphere. I'll miss you if you leave.
what busy dad said.
and also? don't stop.
especially since *one* of these days, i'm gonna make to some conference or other and we WILL meet in real life.
xoxo
There will always be chores that we need to do. Chores can wait, life often can't. I would rather live and enjoy myself than worry endlessly about chores. You have grown so much. I don't feel you can easily be defined and stuck in a box. You are a survivor and have been constantly reinventing yourself. Your humanity is what drew me to your blog.
Damn.
I had this awesome response and then I got to the picture and well hell woman.
really?
how did you do that? because I love it, and it's me.. and that rarely happens.
Woman, I think you're amazing and powerful and I ADORE you... love you.. and I think you're pretty freaking phenomenal.
Yeah, well, I haven't been any of those things either - invited to speak, photos hung, or even been to any conferences or met any of the people in my laptop in person. So you've accomplished more than me, so you have to stay. :P
I went outside and built a snowman with my son today. I didn't want to, but then I thought that I should shut the damn computer, put down the computer and go play.
And you know what? Building a snowman is a hell of a lot of work. And of course I took pictures - but not until we were done. I hide too, and if I accomplish anything it would be to stop playing and start hiding. Thanks for the reminder.
I started blogging because my son told a cashier at Target that she looked like a fish. I am clearly one of those serious, professional women of whom you are speaking.
So you are not Cocktailing anymore?
You write for a living. Thats a huge accomplishment. What makes you think that you can't write for your living and for yourself?
Also, does writing give you pleasure?
I'm jumping on Momo's train here: I started blogging because I needed to get in shape and to have someone to motivate me. Two and a half years later, look how well that's gone. I have lost exactly zero pounds and can't run any farther than I could in Nov 2007. But I've made some great new friends and I have an outlet for the words that just pour out on occasion.
I am sooo with you on the feeling like I should be making more of this than I am. I totally get that, and I have no cure for it. And there are days when I think I should just quit because I don't have the time/cojones/skill to make more of it. But then I remember the people I've met that I wouldn't trade for anything, and I can't leave.
In another life, I would be an essayist. In this life, other things press harder on my time. But I think that has to be okay. For now at least.
I feel like I have read this from you before.
I would like to chime in that I really, really LOVE your blog, and your words, and the thoughts you share, and the slightly gritty way you share them. I feel like I am looking at your life through the bottom of a beer bottle. Things are in sepia, and a little distorted, but I can still see if I focus my eyes (mind) just right.
Look, you could be me. You could still have music on your blog (!!!!!), and have things you WANT to say but can't bring yourself to say them because you are just not as talented as everyone else.
In this business, you have to be good at self promotion. Maybe even a little shameless at times. And, then you have to work really hard to maintain the integrity of your work, and not pander to the masses.
You never pander. You, Mr. Lady, are a class act...and THAT is why I haunt my blog roll to see if you have updated. Not because you spoke at a conference I will never attend.
A bunch of bs, and one really good picture: http://www.whiskeyinmysippycup.com/2010/02/22/mom2summit/
The only reason you should give up blogging is if you become a full blown addict to it and completely begin ignoring this family you've fought so valiantly for.
And, don't take this the wrong way, since your posts are about 3 times a week, I'd hardly call that addicted. A post every hour? Like some of my FB friends who I had to hide their hourly status updates about their toe jam and favorite songs?
And, I suppose, as long as you're happy and you still enjoy sharing your life with us. I mean, I guess if you're starting to find it mentally draining and a tiring obligation to keep us all happy, well, I suppose you should quit then.
But you do like it, right? :)
I meant it to read "your family." You've worked hard on YOUR family. It almosts sounds like I'm referring to all us commentors as the family you've worked hard for...yeah.
You just don't know how great you really are. I look forward to your posts. We are all so different and it's that uniqueness that makes me love you more. Keep doing what you do.
Okay, first let’s try the G.I. Joe tactic. WTF, have you lost your senses? What are you telling me? Are you telling me I’m a shit admirer and I’m wrong and worthless and no good for believing in you? I know what I read. I’m not a total schmuck, you schmuck. Is that what you’re telling me? The reality is no, you’re not the Dooce. But, I’ve been reading your hand-me-down babble for many years, thinking this chic can spin. You’re like the Sophia Loren of words. I love (you) this kid. You F-ing made me laugh, made me feel, made me think and all with the use of words b/c frankly I couldn’t pick you out of a crowd if I had to. I think you’re pretty but I’m not absolutely sure. YOU haven’t seen you they way I’ve seen you. IF you could experience the pleasure like I experience your pleasure you’d go Whoa, Shit. When does it become about me and not so much about you? Huh, when?
Okay, now let’s move into the more sensitive and a loving approach. Okay, fine, quit bitch. You little shit. Walk away. Fine. Go back, serve drinks. Then what?
Keep writing. You will know you have reached the mountain.
XXOO the Magnum. YOUR.DAY.WILL.COME. It’s not today. And gladly I and others get to walk with you to the top, ever so gladly and you will. Today is not the day.
Actually I love all this self realization. The old song goes,
I’m growing
I’m growing
And I don’t like it
And it hurts
I love you
But I’m tired
I guess I have a lot to learn
I guess I have a lot to learn
Try dancing ballet behind Michal Baryshnikov like I did and not feel underwhelmed. I was not a Baryshnikov but I was good on my own and I never quit. I made American Ballet Theater, why? Because I never quit, there was always be someone better than me. That’s not the point.
i had this same feeling/ thought a few weeks ago when i saw my former high school classmates professional experience on LinkedIn and thought, wow, this girl got a major degree and works for a big oil company abroad, probably raking in the big bucks and while, I, moved to the U.S., chose journalism and then married and stayed home to raise kids and can't code worth a damn. you talk of waste, i've done nothing but waste time. I am not director of anything, not in charge of anything, just existing. and i can't get a job. woo hoo. i don't know what i'm good for :)
PS: I think you're bored and wanna do something different and get something out of it and hey, i support you whatever you do.
Mary said everything perfectly! You rock woman! Please don't stop!!!
Oh dear. If YOU are having these thoughts, then what the Hell did I just drop $202.95 on a ticket to BlogHER for? You are an exceptional writer so whatever you choose to do, please keep writing. And maybe share it with the world every once and a while...
don't tell anyone...
but I've actually been considering the same thing, for the same reasons.
I would never debate your life with you. I have to humbly and non-debatedly disagree with you about your life philosophy. I say screw what you're good at, do what you love. Even if it's (like me) only for about ten minutes a day. If you love this place hollowed out of the great big web, then stick to it, if you don't, then, hells yeah, ditch it and move onto greener pastures. (Just know you'll be leaving a bunch of us crying in the dirt.)
Note to self: Stop reading this damn blog.
well I appreciate your online, "not-going-anywhere-productive" writing. If blogging takes time from your family or your other real life commitments, then maybe it's time to stop. But aside from that- so what if no one wants you to speak at their conference?? WE want you to speak here- on your home turf. Not just once a year, but often.
Quite honestly, your words have been a blessing. the end.
I love you and you know that. I think of you as one of those serious, professional types (you and Momo!)
I always wonder what the hell I'm doing this for. So I take a break and eventually end up coming back and realizing- no, I won't get rich and famous doing it, but something keeps pulling me back. Maybe it's the only place I get heard, even just a little, and at the end of a tough day of being ignored and blending in, it feeds my soul. It just won't be feeding my family.
I'd miss your blog if you leave the internet.
p.s. I left you an award at my place :)
DITTO to BusyDad's comment. You are one of the first bloggers I began reading, not so very long ago as I am yet again LATE to the party. I feel that you have inspired me to be better at writing in my own little corner of the internet. I would sit and have coffee/tea/glass of wine/gin and tonic or whatever with you daily if it were geographically possible and assuming you wouldn't get a restraining order placed on me for stalking you. If you left the blogosphere I would be sad.
While I love your writing and hope you don't exit blogging, I also realize that you need to do what is best for YOU and your family.
It's these damn conferences. They suck the lifeforce from people in eight different ways, maybe nine. Dammit we need a better way.
Bwahahaha! You kill me.
Yeah, we'll talk (and I won't need to tequila to loosen up).
I have to agree with BusyDad.
I think there are a lot of people out there who write amazingly well. People who deserve to be asked to speak at conferences. You are on that list. One thing I keep hearing though, is it doesn't come to you, you get all up in their grill and tell them that they want you there. Or something like that. (Which may not be true, but that's what it seems like.) For me, it's the community aspect. It's why I do it.
Now on another subject? I met so many amazing people at BH last summer. I managed to speak to some people when I saw them...but one I couldn't was Kristen - Motherhood Uncensored. Even though I saw her in the lobby and I've commented on her blog for years, I couldn't make myself say hi. I freaked in the moment and hid behind my laptop. Now, I wish I had said something. So, I applaud you for not hiding.
If there were no cocktail waitress, bartenders and liquor store sales clerk, there'd be a lot fewer of those "great" writers.
Bombay Sapphire martini, up with a twist, please.
I swear it's like you crawled into my brain with this post. All day I've been thinking about how I feel like the only person out there who isn't trying to use blogging as a platform to something else. I'm not out to be a professional blogger. I don't give a rat's ass about reviews and sponsored posts (I just did one, but that's a long story and it was more of a "fell into my lap" thing than anything). I have no desire to get paid (or even do it for free) to tweet about a particular assigned topic or whatever. I'm not trying to get published. I'm not begging people to let me write at their super! big! deal! site. I'm just . . . doing my thing. Sometimes it feels like doing just that is failing. It shouldn't, but sometimes it does.
I just said that as the conferences (and years) go on, I take fewer pictures. I'm more engaged in the moment than documenting the moments and I'm okay with that. I might even like it better.
I also want to say the funny thing is, people always look at me and think I'm doing so much, while I'm having the same thoughts as you - but so and so created a whole conference! This one wrote TWO BOOKS. That one over there has a TV deal... so it's all relative I guess.
What I'm saying I guess is that as for what you're doing being important or not based on some arbitrary ROI? Pshaw. Important is subjective. If it's important to you, important to your future grown children, important to leave a legacy of some sort here on the interwebs, then dammit, it's IMPORTANT. It doesn't have to be defined by speaking engagements or photo ops.
Um, yes. I absolutely get this. I'm so glad you lived Houston fully. And, *I appreciate my life more fully for reading your words.* That's something amazing, right there.
PS. Okay, now I'm convinced, I'm so going to look at this camera whose babies you would carry. But, I absolutely guarantee you, with me as a partner, it will produce far less gorgeous offspring.
quite honestly, i don't want to speak anywhere because i would cry, crap my pants and have a scarlet unibrow of epic proportions because people hated me.
i don't really want to contribute too much to other outlets because i don't want to cry, crap my pants and have a hangover in the morning because people hate me.
but let's face it, i've never taken any of this too seriously because if i did. i would hourly do all of the above.:)
That is wonderful. I am happy for you. Sometimes I wonder about all our interactions online, all of us Tweeting, and blogging, and so on... and I wonder how much all of that keeps us from living our life, the one away from the computer screen.
I guess that's on the same plane as your reflection about hiding behind your camera... sort of.
Just wanted to point out that if you did your dishes you would actually accomplish something. Except that then you would just have to do them again tomorrow. So why bother?
Do what makes you happiest. Blog. Journal. Lurk. Comment. Hide behind the camera. Get in front of it. But opt for happiness.
Thanks for thinking out loud. Makes the rest of us not quite so lonely.
I'm not sure if I've ever commented before, but I love this post. I understand. And that photo of Rachel, Gorgeous.
Steph
I'm sure I could say a lot of what has already been said but the basic consideration should be does it make you happy to do this? Yes? Then stay. No? Then leave. Sure, you'll be missed if you go, but I'd bet all of your current readers would rather you be happy.
Blissdom was my first and only blogging conference thus far, and while I learned a lot and met some great people, in some ways I left with more insecurities than I had when I arrived. It was easier when all the other bloggers I "knew" were make believe. Turns out, they're real people and that is intimidating.
But back to you. Your blog matters to me, whether you get a book deal or a TV spot or a session at Blogher. You put me in your "The Blog of the Century of the Week” when I first started, and it made me feel AWESOME.
ROI is good, too. I hope you get some!
Yeah, what Jim said, dammit!!
oops, link -- http://bit.ly/9qGoZb