So, my husband is going to make me a widow this month. Okay, so I might be pulling out the melodrama just a tiny bit. William has committed himself to #NaNoWriMo again, for the fourth year in a row. I just have no inspiration to sit down and try to write a 50,000 word book. However, I am constantly neglecting my blog, even in the face of important shit (at least important to me shit) that I want to write about. I have decided to make myself sign up for #NaBloPoMo this year. I have a secret goal that goes along with forcing myself to write a blog post of some kind every day in the month of November, but I am not going to announce it just yet — I, unlike some folks, like to keep secrets (if at least for a little while).
This next month I envision lots of money being spent in local independent coffee shops (and begrudgingly, some money spent in not so “local” ones as well, because you know, those local ones do not seem to like to stay open well into the wee hours). And bars. Lots of money spent at bars — mainly by The Man, though: I prefer my booze at home, next to my chocolate, and coffee. The only catch is: um, that sweet 10 year old that we agreed to bring into the world; while I might have joked about becoming a #NaNoWriMo Widow, he might in fact become an orphan whilst his parents are off writing, typing, and otherwise ignoring him for frivolous novel and bloggy pursuits (anyone want to foster him for a month ). Yes, it IS frivolous. Neither one of us is really accomplishing anything like ending world hunger or finding a cure for AIDS — yes, he might write a book that could get published and could bring in funds to help feed us and yes, I could somehow end up making money by running my mouth for a whole month, but….
I find that I do not have a lack of things to write about, because I don’t have a lack of things to bitch about, but who wants to read an entire month’s worth of posts in which the author does nothing but bitch about living a privileged life? Um, I do not. So, I am not going to subject you to that either. In thinking about what I might want to write about, I have discovered that there is already a list forming. As the tagline for this blog states: Family. Friends. Parenting. Creating. Midwifery. Unschooling. all D.I.Y., well, that is what you are going to get: one great big bowl of pot-pourri.
So, as I was typing I just glanced down and saw the WordPress word count feature in the bottom left hand corner. Yes, I know, I have been using WordPress for some time now and *just* noticed this feature. It is simultaneously frighting and liberating. It is nice to know just how many words that I typed, but it is also debilitating to know just how many words that I have typed. It makes me want to go pull up some of my more lengthy blog posts and see just how freaking long-winded I am. Or not. The Man reminded me that he must accomplish 1667 word per day in order to stay on track with his word count (and not have to have make up writing days; those are kind of like snow make up days in school. sort of.). If you are following along (still) you probably realise I have reached 600 words now.
I promise the other posts will not be needlessly wordy or so ‘all over the place’. I just never know exactly how to start these kinds of projects. Or rather, I just never know exactly how to prepare readers for the complete randomness of posts, as far as subject matter goes. I am a complex and multifaceted individual. I also seem to hold several paradoxical points of view on many facets of life. So, what I am trying to convey is that you can not put this blog into a neat little genre box. I also think I would go a bit more loopy than usual if I tried to write about one topic for an entire month. Aaaaah!
Like many of my fellow ‘mommy friends’, I have this horrible habit of starting to write on my blog for a few days, then I skip a week, write something again (apologise for taking a week), then I forget about the whole god damned thing until six months later and then I have to write the ‘oh, I am so sorry for leaving the
3 2 of you out there who read this old thing hanging’ post. Which gets followed by a couple posts, then a week goes by… and… I just really do not understand how to put content on a blog every day. But, I suppose, this month I am going to figure it out. I announced it publicly on Twitter, so I am bound to it now.
Ok. I did it. I signed up for #NaBloPoMo. ‘Cause I’m a masochist. Stay tuned to Natural Attachment Blog this month while I muddle through!
— Michele James-Parham (@PghMidwife) November 1, 2013
There is some kind of psychological power that publicly announcing things has on me (and other folks). It also elicits guilt. I have no plans to trifle around with guilt this month. If I miss a day, I will just whine about it the next day when I post something. Also, back dating posts. Oh, snap! I might have given myself away.
One thing that I am interested in is putting up some more poetry of mine. I have started to write a little bit of it here and there again. Some of you are aware that I used to write poetry and perform it weekly when I lived back in Oklahoma. Since moving to Pittsburgh in 2005, I have only performed poetry publicly once and I have written a total of about 10 notebook pages since the move in 2005. It is a sad, sad thing. I have recently had a creative resurgence for writing some poetry. Most of what I have written has been very short, only consisting of a few lines here and there, but it has come out with no force. That is a good thing. And poetry, like blogging can quickly turn into a self masturbatory bitch session about all of the ‘o me miseram’ shit in your life. (That is Latin for woe is me.) Not happening here. Nope. That stuff gets used as kindling.
My computer is telling me that I have approximately 27 minutes left of battery power and of course, I did not bring my power cable with me, because of course, I did not presume to be embarking on this journey until after I was already nestled into the comfy couch at the coffee shop. I had thought that I would only be looking up from Candy Crush Saga on my iPad from time to time to make sure The Man was not surfing the Interwebs instead of writing….Though, I could blame all of this blogging nonsense on my dear, beautiful friend, the Lady Gyre, who suggested #NaBloPoMo to me (and who also should be blogging all month, because misery loves company and I am a fan of LG’s company).
I have something rather fun in mind for tomorrow’s blog post. I used to have a series on this blog of 100 Things about me that I never finished. If you recover from reading all of this long and winding post, maybe you might feel compelled to go read the eight posts from the series and find out all kinds of bizarre things about me. Because is that not what people want when they read other people’s blogs: to find out weird shit about them (oh, that is just me).
And here is the deal folks, I am going to need some help come about day eight. I will hit a wall and not know what to write about. I implore you, if you care to help me succeed in this month of madness, to tell me what you want me to write about. I know that there are so many things I could delve into, but if no one is reading my blog this month, I will feel way less into owning up to my public proclamation of bloggy prowess. If no one wants to read something from me every day, then there is really no sense to all of this frivolousness. No topic is off the table, but be prepared, I am not afraid of ‘four letter words’, heresy, or being contentious. I also love rainbows and kittens. You tell me. What do you want me to write about this month?