Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Mental Spaghetti

So my dad said I need to do another blog entry.

I’m not sure if I’m quite sold on this blog thing. I mean, I love reading my friends’ and family’s blogs…when I find time and an internet connection. But that’s an incredibly rare occasion at this point in my life.

I often have thoughts or difficulties or triumphs that I’d love to share with people, but I just never think to write them in a blog. I feel like it needs to be something profound or touching or extremely funny to be blogging-worthy. I mean, who wants to read the mundane happenings of my simple life, or read my verbal stream-of-consciousness? Sometimes even I wish I could escape from the mess of mental spaghetti that’s going on in my mind! (Everything all jumbled up together, thinking of everything at once. And very messy. Red sauce stains are buggers to get out.) Why put someone else through that mess? I think it comes from my perfectionism. I don’t want people reading something that might show an imperfect, dull Lori.

Isn’t that just silly?!

Oh, and I feel like if people are going to take the time to read my blog, I should obligatorily read theirs. And, as we've established--I simply don't.

So I’m not sure what I am supposed to be writing this blog entry about. The funny things my students say usually go in my Facebook statuses. (I think the word “status” needs a cool plural, like “stati” or something. Don’t you?) My small (and large) triumphs get told to my parents. And the tough stuff…well, it either gets unloaded on one of two dear friends, occasionally to my parents, or I just keep it inside of me until it eventually fades out. Eventually. That being a very relative word, said with a lot of faith.

But we'll try it.

1 comment:

  1. I think every blogger struggles with appearing "less than perfect" on their blog. I'd guess many bloggers (myself included) have put up a post and felt so vulnerable afterward they nearly took it down (or maybe they even have). Don't be afraid to appear less-than-perfect. We all are imperfect, remember?