The Jackie Blog

I wish I knew how to make people stop apologizing to me for not reading all my posts. 

It happens all the time.  I’ll be in casual conversation and suddenly be accosted by a plethora of apologies for someone not reading my every written word.  It takes many forms, but the scenario almost always includes a reason they don’t read it every day (busy, see it in inbox and intend to read it later, don’t read much) followed by an excited recall of the last one they’ve read in striking detail so that I know they actually do read it sometimes.

It’s pretty painful.

Firstly because I don’t really care if people read it every day.  It’s certainly nice to have readers, and I’m floored by the folks who try to read every word.  But I don’t sit around my apartment, brooding over so-and-so who didn’t mention anything about yesterday’s post.  It actually never occurs to me to wonder which of my friends read and which don’t because, quite frankly, I don’t actually know most of my readers.  I’m quite startled when someone I actually know tells me I had a good post recently – because I forget that people I actually talk to could know that I’ve eaten a cricket or pole-danced the night before. 

I prefer to ignore it. 

I don’t know how to make people stop apologizing.  I’ve at least gotten to the point where I can spot the fear in their eyes and as soon as I hear the word “blog” I stop them dead in their tracks and emphasize that it’s really okay and that I really don’t mind and am flattered they even know I have a blog.

Unfortunately, they rarely believe me/accept it/stop talking.

As in any predicament, there is a flip side.  There are folks who read my blog every day or darn near close to it.  And those folks neglect to converse with me at all because they now have daily access to my brain and have no need of a personal interaction.  Which, to be honest, the hermit inside me is absolutely thrilled about.   I’d be pretty down for just conducting all social business online.  

I don’t really like people.  They disturb me.

Which is why I really have to find a way to stop the apologies.  It’s just too awkward; I can’t take it anymore.   I thought about sewing on “I don’t care if you read it” on the bottom of my jackieblog.com t-shirts, but that seemed overkill.  Besides, I can’t always anticipate when I’ll be accosted, so I’d have to wear the t-shirt every time I leave my apartment.   That will add up to some pretty frequent laundry loads and that’s unacceptable.

I could just start every conversation with someone who hasn’t already apologized to me by telling them not to apologize, but that’s even more awkward.  If they don’t read it, they’ll feel like I’m calling them out and drop their subscription because they’re scared I can track them with WordPress.com’s super awesome site stats and summary (for the record, I can’t).  If they do read it, they’ll be equally insulted by the accusation that they don’t.

I’m out of ideas.  Maybe I just have to accept that people will be forever apologizing to me for something which I don’t hold them accountable.  

Or maybe I can just order more t-shirts. ♣

Tags: 365 Project, blogging, Humor, life, musings, postaday2011

I need to stop making bad decisions.

I keep doing this thing where I stay up late, reveling in my irresponsibility, then waking up early and hating myself.  I tell myself I deserve it.  I tell myself I work hard that what’s the point if you don’t get to enjoy life once in a while.  But let’s face it: once in a while is kind of like, every night.  And though I’ve never considered myself a coffee drinker, an unbiased review of my bank statement would reveal a large portion spent at late night establishments followed by a large portion spent the next morning at coffee joints.

That’s pretty hard evidence.

Last night I was out at one of said late night establishments waiting for Dave to finish playing his set so I could go home and pass out and began to write my blog on bar napkins.  The bartender made a comment about J.K. Rowling, author of Harry Potter craziness, and how she started out homeless writing her story on cocktail napkins as well.  And now, well, she’s richer than the Queen of England.

The seeds of fame.

I didn’t have enough alcohol in me to delude myself into thinking that staying up late and scribbling on napkins was going to get me anywhere based on the precedent J.K. Rowling had set.  First and foremost, I’m not homeless.  I feel like that’s an important part of the underdog story there.  Second (and perhaps equally important), I’m not J.K. Rowling.

Still, it would be nice to allow myself to think that recalling my late nights and early, zombie-like mornings this year of my post-a-day extravaganza would be looking back fondly on the blossoming days of my fame. 

But I think I’m just tired.  And I have been for many moons.    There’s nothing fame-endowing about that.

And so this weekend I shall drive into the heart of Virginia to 1) seek out a Lollipop Tuesday of epic proportions and 2) sleep so often and so long that I actually reverse my under-eye dark circles.    My under-eye area will be so light and fresh that people will assume I mismatched my concealer, but really I’ll be basking in the afterglow of Virginia sleep.  I like to think it’s better than Pennsylvania sleep.   At least that’s what I’ll tell myself this weekend when I’m sucking up the sweet nectar of hibernation.

You know, in between writing blog posts on scraps of paper. ♣

Tags: 365 Project, blogging, Humor, life, musings, postaday2011

It appears I’ve neglected to acknowledge something here.

I have passed the halfway point, folks.  I’m over the edge.   I’m over 50% finished with the postaday2011 challenge.

Apparently, I'm likening this man running a marathon to me writing my blog. I am the man - lonely, tired, and pressing toward the finish. And apparently with only a few scattered, somewhat-paying-attention attendees. Photo by "Eneko Astigarraga". Click to check out his Flickr Photostream.

Typically, I’d celebrate such an occasion  by looking back over the last 180-something posts and picking out my favorite ones.  But unfortunately, I flipped through my 2nd quarter accomplishments only to find that I have written nothing I can be more excited about than the favorite posts I already acknowledge in my one-third celebration.

Personally, that realization saddens me.  What if my best posts were written back in the day when I had seven subscribers? 

Yes, I used to only have seven subscribers.  You know who you are.

I could reflect on things I’ve improved on in all this time that I’ve made sweet, sweet love to my blog, but that’s pretty boring for you.  Who really cares if I schedule out my Lollipop Tuesdays beforehand now or if I feel a lot more comfortable detaching myself from my writing journal and just posting whatever is on my mind?  Who really wants to know if I have a graphic artist working on a super awesome header image for me or if I’m going to cover a Lollipop Tuesday event this month that involves a media pass and crossing several state borders?

No one, that’s who.

So instead of rolling out a big celebratory post where I chronicle my achievements, set out my future plans, and thank everyone for their part in this monstrosity, I suppose I’ll simply acknowledge the passing of the first half and march onward toward the next.  

After all – I’m 180-something posts in and I still can’t manage to consistently post before 12:00pm on Saturdays.  

Maybe I’ll manage that by the 3/4 celebration. ♣

Tags: 365 Project, blogging, Humor, life, musings, postaday2011

Well, it finally happened.

I’m almost six full months into my post a day adventure and it appears I finally have a day with nothing to write about.

I considered a post on how awkward if would be to befriend your favorite bartender in real life, but that lost steam quickly.   I thought about a post where I recall how looking back on the highway while driving sometimes gives me the feeling of being chased.  I got very close to ranting about how the attractive women who suddenly flooded my go-to Wednesday night locale had no business there, but it sounded a tad too jealous of me.

Anyway, I’ve sifted through the bunch of lingering thoughts, old drafts – the whole lot.  And short of writing about how I had man hands in 5th grade (complete with pictures), I have nothing with which to enlighten you this fine Thursday.

There was -briefly- a post about how my boss wears fashion capes to work, but it was far too snarky.

And so I humbly offer you this: the map of Jackie’s Blogger’s Block.  Relish in my process.

Click to enlarge. You know - so you can read it.

Tags: 365 Project, blogging, Humor, life, musings, postaday2011

I can’t stand body maintenance.

I am so tired of tweezing and plucking and pulling and washing and shaving and destinking and blotting and covering and moisturizing.

It’s even worse in the summer.  I’m the kind of person who works up a sweat just getting a glass of water, so heat and humidity are very taxing on me.  The last thing I feel like doing on top of all the other routine maintenance is adding an extra shower and deodorizing session just so that I can walk among other members of society.

It frightens me how much I’m beginning to empathize with hippies.

I feel ya, kid. Womanhood blows. Pic by 'jasonbolonski'. Click image to check out his Flickr PhotoStream

Men – when you look at a woman, no matter how attractive, it’s likely that she’s failing miserably at at least one of the above tasks.  There just isn’t enough time in the day to constantly monitor every one of them. Think about it.

Once we’ve traded hair for grumpiness and discomfort, we have to moisturize.  Because we don’t want to get flappy or saggy or ashy or wrinkly.  So we moisturize.  We do it at our desks, we do it after the shower, and we do it at night.  Serious followers will even wear booties and mittens to bed with lotion all inside them.  Because magazines and TV and adultery make us absolutely crazy and we sometimes feel like if we don’t wear lotion mittens to bed, no one will love us.

Lord, I would have appreciated being a boy.

The next step is a good high maintenance routine.  Hair, face, fingernails, toenails.  All of it has to be shellacked with something or other or we will wander the streets as pig beasts, frightening all those around us and causing us to remain indoors until we have enough layers of Spackle on our faces to negate whichever few natural beauties we had when we began.  

We have to sleep enough.  We can’t cry before bed or our eyes will be puffy and we’ll wake up looking like Senator Palpatine.  We have to drink lots of water.  We can’t eat things we enjoy without regret and constant talk of self-hate.  

And the real kicker is that all of it wears off.  All of it.  Moisturizer, makeup, hair removal – everything must be repeated. Over and over and over again until we die.  Women are crazy, yes.  They’re out of our minds.  Absolutely.  These are all the things we have to do simply because we were born women.  Personally, I can’t take it anymore.  I might throw in the towel.  

Call the hippies. Tell them I’m coming. ♣

Tags: 365 Project, blogging, Humor, life, musings, postaday2011

I’m breaking free of my Internetless chains.

For about a month now, I’ve been without access to the magical Interwebz within the comfort of my own home.  It’s been a lovely obstacle to my post a day adventure.

But I’ve had enough now.

This whole thing started because I got in a fight with Comcast customer service and decided I didn’t need their stinking Internet service.  Something about my rates constantly being hiked without warning, get routed to the wrong service center every time I called, and waiting 30 minutes to talk to a human just really turned me off to the world-at-my-fingertips thing.

Not that it was the Internet’s fault.

And there’s been something quite lovely about having to get out of my house every evening to go write a post, but it really sucks on weekends when all I want to do is sleep in, walk around in pajamas, and eat chocolate.   And since I’m thinking of showing up at the cafe with a bag of chocolate chips and PJs, I think it’s time I give in and get another service provider.   And I’m also really tired of not being able to look things up when I want to know them.   I never realized how many times I Google something in a day until I was suddenly unable to do so.   There are lots of random things I like to look up every day.  Like store hours, phone numbers, how long an entire frozen chicken takes to thaw, whether the mushrooms in the fridge are bad or just look bad, what movies are playing…  I need to know things.  A lot of things.  So yesterday I asked the folks at Verizon to send me some Interwebz.

…But I didn’t want to pay the service fee for installation so they’re sending me a kit.

That’s right – a kit.  In approximately 4 days, I will be buried in a list of instructions, cords, and hopelessness.  I will tell myself the same thing I tell myself when I need to construct furniture or do my taxes: millions of people have accomplished this all over the world.  And at least one of those people has been dumber than me.  And they succeeded.  Logic dictates that I can also succeed.

I don’t really have any data from which I formed this hypothesis.  Even if I could get the stats for how many people attempt those things per year and calculate approximately how many of them have less education or common sense than me, there’s absolutely no way to know how many of those people pieced together furniture that didn’t topple over the next day or do taxes that didn’t get audited.

I could make some really good fake pie graphs to make myself feel better though.

How hard can self installation be? I mean – they offer it as an option.  One would think that there are several people who look at the $100+ fee and look at the self-installation (free) option and think “eh… I’ll do it.”

I have a lot of faith that I can pull this together on my own.  Unfortunately, there will be no way for me to Google for common problems or search for advice while I’m undergoing the process.   And if it takes too long, the cafe will close and I’ll have no way to post for that day.  Note to self: go to cafe, write post, then attempt self-installation.

Giddy up. ♣

Tags: 365 Project, blogging, Humor, life, musings, postaday2011

Photo by Charles Dyer. Click the image to stroll on over to his Flickr Photostream.

Happy Lollipop Tuesday, Ladies and Gentlemen.

I’m almost embarrassed to admit that this week’s adventure was camping.  Almost.   Let’s face it: at this point in the game, it’s obvious that I’m a sheltered, awkward hermit who hasn’t experienced life. In fact, that’s kind of the whole deal behind this blog’s existence.   And though I was certain that I’d been camping at some point in my lifetime based solely on the fact that I was bred out of the armpit of America, I suddenly realized that all my experiences with tents were in the backyards of my neighbors’ houses.

There was an inkling of camp-age when I went to Ocean City, Maryland for my birthday a few years ago.   But a brief stint of rumination recalls a hot tub and hotel that were right beside the “camping ground” and we frequented them often.   Then there was the year I was a camp counselor and theater teacher for a children’s performing arts camp in Michigan (I don’t want to talk about it), but those were pretty darn nice cabins and my food came from a mess hall.

So this past weekend, I traveled into the heart of West Virginia to a state park camping ground to eat food cooked on a fire, sleep on a tent floor, and abstain from showers.

And I gotta tell ya – I’m a fan.

I’m in love with food cooked on a fire.   I’m pretty sure it can make anything palatable, if not incredibly delicious.  Vegetables, scrambled eggs, potatoes, babies  – anything.  Delicious.

I’m not such a fan of the dewy, awkward, blanket of moistness that accumulates on me while I sleep.  I’m not really down with the 4 times I wake up in the middle of the night to adjust the blanket for salvation from sweltering heat or freezing cold.  And I guess when I think about it, it would be pretty nice to just have a regular shower that isn’t in a shared half-doored bathhouse a quarter-mile away  filled with loud, adolescent girls.  But hey, I really didn’t mind all that much either.

I kind of like just being out in the wilderness and staring at a fire.  I like that my biggest concern is when the next log will need put on the fire, and I have an excuse to avoid every call, email, or text that could possibly come my way.

Maybe I don’t like camping – I just like being left alone.

Yeah, that’s it.  I like being left alone.  I don’t care if I have to strip myself of grocery stores, consistent, running water, and a mattress to do so; I am totally into this off-the-radar gig. And since I’ve recently been entertaining the notion of hiking the Appalachian Trail, I fear all the evidence amounts to me abandoning real life in trade for a life amongst the trees.  I think right now my level of comfort is somewhere between ‘camping’ and ‘hippie commune’. 

Ugh, I just admitted that I’m entertaining the notion of joining a hippie commune.  

Things have quickly gone downhill. ♣

Tags: 365 Project, blogging, Humor, life, musings, postaday2011