Thursday, February 3, 2011

Why write?

I had a friend jokingly refer to me as a "mommy blogger" a while back and I was quick to deny the label. Not because I don't like the label, but I can't group myself in with women that actually spend time, effort, even programming skills on their blog. I don't... do any of that. I think at one time I thought I'd start on twitter and promote myself and connect with some companies and do some contests and, and, and.....

Nope. Not for me.

I don't do Twitter. It's a time-suck of massive proportions, and I'm not sure if it's my distractability, but I get on there and then look up and BAM! 2 hours have gone by. And the few times that companies did contact me for samples or contests or whatever (ages ago - when I was trying out Twitter and they were fooled into thinking I was potentially Someone Important) - well, I just looked at their lovely PR emails and thought to myself, bleeeeurgggh. Not into it. And I'm certainly not so important that I am "Too Busy" for everything - but yeah, no. Just.... not into finding the time to do it...

But still - I blog. And why? Why put all this out into space if you don't want to promote yourself and do stuff or get free stuff, right? Honestly - I just like to journal. That is it full-stop. I've been doing it for years and years and years (trust me - my old Annie Diary is in my basement as we speak with dozens of entries about my dog and my step-brother and the neighbourhood friends that I would bitch and moan about constantly) (guess some things never change) (yes, I was six years old at the time).

I loved writing for myself - and (after one mortifying incident where my mom found my diary and grounded me for the contents of it) I never minded sharing what I wrote. Sometime in our early twenties, I actually let my closest girlfriends sit and read through some of my high-school diaries while we shared some glasses of wine and laughed our asses off at my drama and self-pity and teenage angst. It could've been embarrassing - but really, it was just funny.

I think I have a few more notebooks from my early twenties (uni days) - but then I stopped. I was a sporadic writer by then at the best of times, and I think I just felt too old to be writing in a diary anymore? I'm not sure - I don't think I really thought about why I quit at the time that I did - I just stopped.

And a few years later discovered this new-fangled-thang called blogging and ba-dum-dum-dum... I was back into it instantly. True to form - my first blog was all about my wedding plans - because that was what I was LIVING for at the time (planning a wedding in 4 short months was like crack-cocaine for this planning diva - I was in heaven!). I was living, eating, breathing all things nuptial and wanted to share what was happening with family/friends - and so I blogged it.

When that was over, I started my next blog - it was more irreverent and not a URL I actually gave out to family. I still love that lil' pink blog and have never killed it - but, no, will not be linking to it anytime soon. It is like a "nutshell" of my mid-twenties. Obsessed with shopping, how I'd spend the lottery, hot movie stars that I fancied at the time, interspersed with angry rants about stupid people (bad drivers, stupid dry cleaners - I lived in the city at the time, there was no shortage to my rants). I was grown up and yet so immature. It was life "before kids". (Maybe that's why I hold onto it)

While I was writing my pink blog, I had more requests from family on updates about newly married life - you know - those that loved the wedding blog and wanted more of us (of COURSE they did!)... so this blog was born. And it was a "family" blog - it's only purpose was to update all what we were up to... but then Maddie was born and it evolved - just like I evolved. Less about me - more about her. Less about us - more about US.

And it's worked out just fine. Family, friends - hell, even people I don't even know all that well - they are kept up to date on our little corner of the world. I worry less about the baby books and making sure I "remember" that hilarious day we had, because I know if I write about it, I'll always remember it.

So, I guess when it comes down to it - I write for me.

It's not for you.

And it's not for them.

It's for us.


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