To blog, or not to blog?

So, I'm confused.

There is this big community of amazing women out there, bloggers, a few of whom I've made contact with recently, and I am in awe. There are these amazing, honest, GOOD, ever-learning, sharing, excited (I could go on and on, just awesome) women out there, and all are connected because they blog.

When I say "they blog", I don't mean what I do here. I don't mean they picked a free template on blogger, and randomly post pictures/thoughts whenever they feel like it. These women are BRANDS. If they don't know html themselves, then they have a professionally designed template from somewhere. They are all photographers in some sense of the word (even if it's just taking pictures with instagram, these chicks are always snapping photos of something!), and they all write. Beautifully. I mean, I was an English major, I can certainly write a thing or two when prompted, but these women love it enough to write a lot. About anything & everything. And everything they write is coherent to the entirety of their blog. It doesn't feel random at all. (No wonder some of them make money off of these blogs!) Check out my list of favorite blogs to see what I mean.

Now, I don't get it. I don't get how amazing photos/articulate & creative writing translates to good/fun/entertaining person. Perhaps it's the type of person that is ABLE to blog tends to be similar? Young struggling artist, stay-at-home mom, writer? But I feel similar to these people, I certainly feel connected to them and think that they would like me if they knew me (hehe), but I can't join the "club" unless my blog is snazzy & I post regularly?

Well, I have a (demanding) full time job and am planning a wedding. I spend a lot of time with family & friends, and when I veg-out, it's usually with a glass of wine & a good book (or old movie). I don't (as of yet) see "blogging" as this great sense of release. I much rather be face-to-face with someone and interact. Job & time aside, I'm also just not the kind of person who can sit still & spill their guts in such a well-contrived, poetic way. I hardly ever take pictures (which I hate & am trying to get better at), and 99% of my blog posts are written quickly  hastily during my lunch break at work.

What I am wondering is, what do I want more: a pretty blog that I update regularly, or a connection and "pass to the club" with these great women? Can I have one without the other? Can I want one, but pursue the other?

Someone please explain...

Zest.

Please read this blog - and remember

"There is reason for everyone to be unhappy. There is reason for everyone to be happy. What's your focus? You can look at this big picture or small picture; it works both ways. Heading to a beach sunset even when you don't feel like it. Pulling the craft bin out in search of glitter, knowing it will make a huge mess.
My point? You cannot wait for Life to come to you. You have to go get it--pursue it in a wild, passionate chase that includes the foreboding depths of challenge and heartache just as much as the ecstacy of triumph and success. You have to want it bad enough to seek it not only when things are rough and the pursuit of it brings the hope of change, but when things are comfortable and easy, and the quest for more living--more purposeful awareness--might even make you scared. It is in that fear--that breathtaking exhileration of "What If?"--that you rise to the occassion.

You step out of your comfort zone and experience the thrill of taking risks and the possibility of believing that, sure, things might be good, but if you stretched a little further, they might be great. I want to know great. And I will work hard to find it."

Thank you, Kelle, for your honesty, bravery & joy. 

How I Feel Today - an excerpt

because i can't even begin to muster the energy to articulate myself today, here is exactly how I feel, as beautifully written by a favorite blog.

i spilled coffee on my laptop last week--on the keys. and in an attempt to dry it up before it reached the...well, whatever it is that it reaches before the computer stops working, i pulled out my hairdryer.


i melted the shift key. the ctrl key now sticks.


i'm a disaster.


{most days, i'm a disaster}.


i'm the girl who spills coffee on her laptop. i wish i wasn't but i am. (and i can say that now because it's not the first time it's happened). i'm terribly judgmental and i complain. all the time, i complain. and i second guess and doubt--i'm a veritable whirling dervish of insecurities.


but i am funny. every once in a while, when you least expect it, i make a good joke--a mouthful of a joke that'll make your cheeks hurt and your eyes burn.


i want to grow vegetables in the backyard. i want to go to the farmer's market every saturday. i want our children to grow up in the kitchen--surrounded by whole grains and colorful fruit and ice cream we make in the cuisinardt. that's not too much to ask its it?


you do know i'm going to be that crazy mom who doesn't allow refined sugar in the house (or at least holds off for as long as possible). i'll be the mom making vegan cookies for the bake sale and packing brown sack lunches with zucchini fries and raw-goat-cheese pizza.


i don't have a mind for dates or numbers. i'll forget all that stuff. or confuse it. or wake one morning and realize the trip i've been planning for several months was off by two days. and so there will be a mad shuffle as flights are rearranged and work is rearranged and the whole thing will be so ridiculous all we'll be able to do is laugh. because it's small fries. that stuff is small fries. i'll remember the good stuff: where we went on our first date and what we ate and your shoes, too. i'll remember your shoes.


it's gonna be a hard life. because life is hard. but it'll be really worth-it. i promise you that--i promise the worth.


and i promise you the attempt. the attempt to be good. and the attempt to be kind. to not worry so much. to not care what others think. to not complain at every turn. the attempt at humor--always, the attempt at a joke.


i promise you the space between perfection and utter chaos. the marrow of life--that'll be my gift to you.




me

courtesty of the wild & wily ways of a brunette bombshell