Duet, the number 53, Twitter, Happiness and Self-Indulgence

My miscellaneous blog posts are sometimes the most fun. So here we are:

* Josh and I are slated to sing a duet in church two weeks from today. Josh decided yesterday that he didn't like the song we have been working on, so now I have a rising sense of panic and impending doom. Duets for bass and soprano are not easy to find. If you know of any great sheet music along those lines, send it my way. Send it by yesterday, if possible.

* I now have 53 RSS subscribers in Google Reader and 15 "followers" ... but my Mom and Dad have still never visited the site, as far as I can tell. Nor has my brother. My oldest sister visited once. It's interesting that my neighbors and cyber-total-strangers-who-happened-on-my-blog-but-I-totally-love-even-though-we've-never-met know more about my life than my parents. Sometimes I wish my husband didn't subscribe so I could be all snarky about him, but... it's probably better this way.

* Just checked out my analytics and realized I've gotten a mention at this site about blogs for Christian Mothers. How fun. (#41, FYI)

* I joined Twitter in January of '08 because it seemed like the Hot New Thing. I tried to talk all my friends into it and they gave me cyber looks of scorn. My friend, Mike, signed up and wrote: "Trying to figure out why in the scrud I would want to use this thing." We had a couple debates on Google Talk re the values of Twitter and I secretly agreed with his opinion. My enthusiasm died down around the time the rest of the world decided it was Hot New Thing. So my love affair with Twitter has faded away, replaced by my hot, new lover named Facebook. It's interesting to see my friends all discovering it and beginning that new romance. I wonder if it will be a long-term commitment or a one-night stand. I pride myself on one quirky little talent: forecasting the death of companies. It will take a few years, but unless Twitter becomes more competitive and multi-faceted, I cannot see it being a long-term competitor for other services. I could write a long essay on the subject, but let's be honest: yawn.

* I wrote another article for the Utah Baby Guide. It was lots of fun and it may become a more regular thing. We'll see what the future holds. :)

* This morning, my son was having a little trouble parting with 10% of his allowance money for tithing. After he finally decided to do it, I told him he could also give money to other projects for our church like the humanitarian fund. As soon as he learned that he could give money for people around the world who were poor or in emergency situations, he wanted to give the rest of his allowance to that. I tried to talk him into just giving them $1 (moderation in all things, after all, right?) but he wouldn't hear of it. So he saved $1 for himself and gave $4 to the poor. I love that kid. We both cry when we hear about people who are hurting or in need.

* I am almost finished reading the bestseller "Eat Pray Love." I'll write a proper review later (maybe) but just wanted to share a few random thoughts here. Like: I've been on a parallel journey in so, so many ways. But I didn't have the bank account or freedom to do it in Italy, India or Indonesia. I had to face it all right here within the confines of my own home and with kids who required much of my time and attention. But the end result is, in so many ways, the same. That path of self-discovery is so painful and so indescribably uncomfortable when you are accustomed to pretending that problems don't exist. I've gone from depression to anxiety to nervous twitches to desperation to wishing my life were over to ... hope and renewal and self-acceptance and a zest for life that makes me want to embrace every sweet moment on this earth.

Today, as I was fasting, I realized that I need to be happier in my life. It's so easy to see the negative side of things. It's so easy to blog about it and make people laugh and say, "Oh, isn't that so true!" But ... isn't the goal to be happy? So as much as it feels good sometimes to blow off steam and let out the frustration, does that really make me happy? Can I live life with cynicism and hope simultaneously? Can I keep my eyes wide open but not be blinded by the cruel unfairness of the world?

The answer, of course, is: I have to choose. Being happy and content does not mean being naive or sheltered. It just means accepting life and making that active decision every day to be grateful for what I have and am. And letting the snarkiness sneak in only on occasion...

* I want to be a writer. Like a real writer, not just another dweeb who thinks she's important because she can self-publish a blog. (Err, sorry if that offends any of my fellow dweebs... just kidding.. dang it, see above bullet point about sarcasm. I gotta work on that.) I am trying to work through why it is that I have so much trouble sitting down to write anything but my blog. Am I scared to make that leap into the ever-whirling sea of rejection letters? Am I just too scared to have people tell me what I secretly fear: I'm just not good enough? Does the amount of bone-crushingly painful work intimidate me? Am I just afraid of taking something I love and crushing the joy out of it by trying to monetize it? I did that with desktop publishing years ago and it was a painful blow. I hate tempering my creativity with a desire for compensation. That is so naturally inhibiting.

I have a few really wonderful concepts for novels that I would enjoy working on, but I just can't JUMP. People say that if you're a true writer, it means writing is like breathing: you have to do it or you'd wither and die. I look at that and say, "Well, I guess I'm not a true writer." Which, naturally, makes me want to fight back and say, "Maybe that's true for YOU, Mr. Bradbury! But maybe it's more complicated than that for some of us!" Which makes me wonder why I'm arguing with one of the greatest writers of the 20th century who doesn't even know I exist? Why am I just arguing with myself? At this point in the internal dialogue, I recognize the dual futility and insanity of what is happening and I check out of the conversation. I think that's a good thing except that I never progress to answering my question: Why can't I just leap into my stories and let the creativity overwhelm me? What am I so scared of?

* Have you noticed that my blog posts become exceedingly long and rambling? I worry about that. Would people like my blog better if I made it more twittery and easy to read? Should I just post a few cute photos of my craft projects, happy children and vacations with cheerful captions? That would definitely be more palatable to some, but it just wouldn't be me. I'm a writer, dang it. So that's what I do on the blog: I write. It's self-indulgent to the extreme, but I love it. Thanks for sticking with me. :)