Thanks for the input on blogging options. All that, and I'll probably stick with same-old-same-old Blogger hud till I am forced to move my business to the new Blogger version that's is just finishing Beta testing. I think I suffer from perfectionism. If I can't be the Uberblogger I will stay bland and get by. I want to be a cool, Zootesque or Kerfloppish blogger who cranks out gorgeous templates, and swell sites. I want to have my own domain. But when am I gonna get the time to learn how to be that cool? Plus?
HERE IS THE HORRIFYING RUB...
I have become little miss safey-safe. I play it safe all the way down the crapping line nowadays. Take this blog for instance... I don't talk about anything controversial, you will rarely hear my opinion on anything other than crock pot recipes. I dress for comfort and safety, my haircut is safe... neutral colors for make-up. I have gone from punk to passive in ten short years.
The reality is that I am still passionate and off-beat. Loud even. Not sure you can tell it from here. HA! it's day eight of the Blopping and already an epiphany... this blog is tapioca, it's Cream o' Wheat, white toast. So much of my existence has the flavor and consistency of the baby cereal I feed to Pearl, when I want to stretch and reach.
Last night Dadguy, who has no love for the "raggedy" style of quilts that I have been making... something about them not being practical. Whatever. Anyway he suggested that I make these quilts just because I know how. I took what he said and added "easy" and "safe" and ran away crying. Hey, I have never claimed to be logical or sane! In any case, this has started a thought process. How much of what I do and my daily choices are based on what is comfortable and familiar?
If I am choosing "safe" for the sake of "safe" (and by safe I don't mean stuff like "look both ways"... I mean "life on autopilot") then am I cheating myself? Maybe right now it's good to leave some things up to knee-jerk response. Maybe I have...
Did I just say that?
Because I don't believe that for a second. I don't believe that I am doing anyone a favor or accomplishing anything of good report by subsuming my whole being into a role/job/title. I am more than "Mama". My kids? They need to have a mama who rocks! They need a whole and real person.
A real person who right now has some very foul swears in her heart and a sinkful of dirty dishes... laundry souring in the washer, and kids playing loud sqawping pony games in the front room. Dude, I gotta think about this.
Edited to add: this doesn't mean that I think you are on autopilot just because you dress normal. I'm saying that I bore myself.