Today being the last day of NaBloPoMo is something of a relief, I confess. Until maybe a week ago I was perfectly content to post everyday. I find that I have a lot I want to say, go figure!
I was asked recently about my involvement with a website I touted early in my blogging career called Mary Kay Sucks so in the interest of clarity I thought I would post about that today. I stumbled upon blogging about a year ago and decided to begin Mrs Metaphor on a literary lark so to speak. I wanted to spend some time developing my writing skills and developing the “character” of Mrs Metaphor. I had in mind what I *thought* this might entail and was suprised and a little shocked at the level of emotional frenzy resident in the cyberland experience to be frank. Perhaps if I had contented myself to spend time on the blogs of my friends (real life and internet bound) then I would have found things a little more tame or even edifying, although that BabyChaos and Writerchick really know how to throw a wild party.
I ended up spending a lot of my time at Mary Kay Sucks (which later became Pinktruth and died a little creative death in the process.) The bad part about spending so much time at the anti-Mary Kay site was that it was like working at a crisis center. It began to feel so polarized…Mary Kay:bad, People who hate Mary Kay: Good. In general I believe that polarizations are rarely accurate so to be whipped into such and emotional turmoil about the inner workings of a cosmetics company felt a little off after a while.
The truth is, that I lost myself on that site. I was already sporting a literary character as my identity rather than the real me and then to pile atop that the tenor of the website in question, well…I lost myself. The good thing about spending time at MKS was that I did make some really amazing “cyber” friends, most of whom are my commentary fanclub here…and for which I am most appreciative.
Needless to say that I ended up really needing to quit the “crisis center” blog because of the emotional drain it had become. I do not begrudge the women who still want to “work” there or still want to attend the support groups but I was never really in a position to be the voice of reason or wisdom there. I’ve never sold Mary Kay…and to be honest, I don’t actually believe it to be evil now that I’ve jumped off the bandwagon. I’ve not been terribly adept at bandwagon riding. It gets a little crowded.
What is it about blogs that continues to fascinate us, draw us in, make us care for people we’ve never met and probably never WILL meet? As I continue to expand my internet blogging community I find I am increasingly filled by the words I read and perhaps at the same time weighted by the additional information. It can become overwhelming to keep up. I feel like a “bad” blogging friend when I don’t keep up with what is happening around me.
Alas, posting this month has given me a new appreciation for those of you who actually do post on a regular basis. It is a great deal of work! I was suprised, however, and glad that I didn’t run out of things to tell you about…although some might argue that I was “reaching” at times (read: Italian spiderman….come ON, that was GREAT!)
So, thank you for peeking into this window during the month of November. I was considering posting each day in December just to keep the party going but at this point I think I’d prefer the pace which fits me better, inconsistent and random. : )
Keep checking in with me, I have enjoyed our ride together this month!
I realize that I HAVE been tagged by I think, three blogging buddies this week and I promise I will fulfill my tagging duties for each and every one but right now my brain is completely cloudy so it won’t be today. : )
This thought has been on my mind a lot lately though so I decided to jot it down for your edification. I couldn’t think of a more direct title for this post so there it is. I don’t know how much explaining that title really requires so I’ll just launch in:
“Fatty fatty two by four, can’t get through the kitchen door” Ok, I get the fatty thing but to call someone a “two by four” sort of implies long and skinny, right? I mean, if you MUST use some sort of description to give a visual of JUST how big someone is…then let’s not give mixed signals. Tall, skinny kid, tall skinny kid, two by four, has to duck to get through the kitchen door. How ’bout that?
“Liar, liar, pants on fire, nose as long as a telephone wire” Again, I get the nose reference, thinking it is a pinocchio thing but WHY the pants on fire? What’s that about? How does being a liar somehow endow one with flaming drawers?
And lastly, “I smell a rat” I don’t know if rats stink or what. I am glad to say I’ve not had to share close quarters with them to date so I wouldn’t know what sort of odor they emit. I understand that if someone is deceitful that the poor rat tends to shoulder the metaphorical burden of that comparison but why say you SMELL a rat? You see what I’m saying here?
I’m sure there are more out there but these are the ones that came to me today as I thought hard about what sort of wisdom to convey upon you today.
Fox Atlanta set up secret cameras inside 5 different hotel chains from the Holiday Inn to the Ritz Carlton and caught every single one of them failing to properly wash the room’s glasses.At every single hotel, regardless of price, the glasses were simply rinsed out and left for the next guest. Some hotels used dirty bath towels to wipe the glasses. One hotel employee rinsed the glasses after cleaning the toilet—using the same gloves. Another one sprayed the glasses with blue cleaning fluid that was marked “Do not drink.”Fox Atlanta has turned the results of the investigation over to the local health department. Experts interviewed in the video maintain that this isn’t just a case of “ew, gross” but a very serious health code violation. Dirty glasses spread disease.
Just makes you want to go right out and book a room, doesn’t it?
About 10 years ago or so I made an album. A friend produced it. He did a very nice job. I wrote all the songs and recorded the vocals and backup vocals but he arranged and recorded the tunes with studio musicians. Most of the time I was not even there when he recorded them. It was not exactly because I didn’t CARE to be there…it was more that I had discovered I was pregnant with my first child and I was totally geeked about it.Apparently I was more geeked about the human baby than I was about the musical baby, which I think is understandable and right.I have regrets now about this project.I wish I had spent more time in the crafting of the songs. I wish I had played the keyboard parts or added a cello part. Part of the reason I want to learn to play the guitar is not so much that I want to be able to “do it all myself” but rather to have an appreciation of it. Guitar appreciation, song production appreciation, studio musican appreciation…I don’t have designs on becoming the “next” 40 year old singer/songwriter to come out of nowhere and become popular on the charts, the “next” big thing..God forbid, the next Britney…ack. About the only “next” I want to be is the next step closer to the person I already was made to be. The next step closer to the very best version of me.That is why I want to learn to play the guitar this year.So, with that in mind, here is another of my old “tracks.” Enjoy!
I’ve been reading Walt Whitman this week. I’ve been savoring it line by line. I know you are all weary of my poetic rantings but I gotta share this piece of wonderful wording which best describes my love of community..
“I have perceiv’d that to be with those I like is enough,To stop in company with the rest at evening is enough,
To be surrounded by beautiful, curious, breathing, laughing flesh is enough,
To pass among them or touch any one, or rest my arm ever so lightly round his or her neck for a moment, what is this then?
I do not ask any more delight, I swim in it as in a sea.
There is something in staying close to men and women and looking on them, and in the contact and odor of them, that pleases the soul well,
All things please the soul well but these please the soul well.”
I was thinking today about making eye contact. I was thinking about how often I avoid the eyes of people while talking to them. When I first moved to Chicago from Cincinnati I’d walk down the street just looking at all the people I encountered, smiling, saying “Hello.” After a time I got out of that habit. Everyone else was walking with their head down, staring at the each footstep they took or perhaps looking far ahead, looking beyond, not present in the moment at all.This feels like a loss to me. So today I thought I’d reclaim that. Today as I took my change back from the Starbucks guy I looked him in the eye and said, “Thank you” and he smiled. Then as the barrista handed me my drink I looked her in the eye and said, “Thank you” and she smiled. It took an extra millisecond to produce that smile. It was rather gratifying I must say. I’m going to give you non literary homework this week…and that is to make eye contact…with your children, your spouse, your barrista, your gas station attendant…anyone you come across in your daily life. See how that feels this week.
Look, blogging EVERY DAY for a month is not as easy as it may seem. If it appears that sometimes I am grasping at straws on some posts well then, you’d be right! I know I’m probably giving you all whiplash with my stirring metaphorical talk one day and then this sort of thing the next but hey, it’s a mixed bag here at Mrsmetaphor.com, love me as I am, babe.So, I was surfing through my blogger friends’ yards this week and saw that MyStarbucks had a post about “Tampon Crafts” which reminded me of this little craft-gem right here. My friend Amy sent me this in an email a looooong time ago. It was funny then but what I think is even funnier is that now about.com has a page for it. I dare ya to make one of these and send it as a gift this Christmas.
I’ve moved one step closer to “high maintenance.” Just thought I’d let you all know…you, dear readers, who have seen the rise of my age spots cause utter chaos in my psyche…you, who have witnessed me turn that to waxing poetic about my grandmother. Yes, the blogmama has glided one step further along the road so highly travelled with Southern women that it’s now the Superhighway of Silicone.I bought a “flat iron.” Don’t worry, I bought a crappy flat iron but nonetheless I did buy one. I’m just tired of that little cowlick in the front of my hair ruining things for all the rest of us. So, there it is….I wash, I condition, I brush, I goop it up, I blow dry and I flat iron…Ack.What next…
You knew it was coming…you did….after Mrs Metaphor’s “Write your own metaphor” and then “Mrs Haiku” how could you get through the year without having to also bear “Mrs Simile?”
Oh, come on….stop your bellyaching…it’s not so bad. This time you can actually use the words “like” and “as.” The very cool thing about the Similie is that it lilts along with such finesse and smoothness, like a tree blowing about in the wind…bending but not breaking…yes?
You may write as much or as little as you’d like…if you can make a comparison in one line then that is just as effective (maybe moreso) as an entire paragraph.
You know the drill…I’d like to see those similies breaking out in full force as the great bull breaks forth from it’s pen on bullfighting day! Your topic, my friends, this Thanksgiving week is well, Thanksgiving. For our friends who live outside the US and have no reason to don the Pilgrim hat, eat turkey and watch football on Thursday then just tell me about something for which you are thankful at this time in your life.
Go to it…remember, technique is important and content is vital. I want to SEEEEEEE your similie…I want to FEEEEEEEL it in my bones.
