I am restless today, my friends. Restless, like an old man trying to send back soup in a deli. Oops! That's an angry old man, according to George Costanza, while relating the tale of how he, as a fake marine biologist, saved a whale by plucking a golf ball out of its blowhole, a golf ball landed there by Kramer, driving golf balls into the ocean for no discernible reason, aside from the fact that he's Kramer, and had 600 Titleists from the driving range in the trunk of his car.
I'm restless. Not angry. Restless from being cooped up in the Mansion since Monday afternoon by the Great Icepocalypse of '11. Restless from fabricating stories out of true life for my little blog, which is going on its sixth year. If Hillbilly Mansion was a child, he'd be in kindergarten by now. Or possibly first grade. And his teachers would be referring him for testing in the gifted program. Or not.
I am in a quandary. On one hand, I would like to turn this blog out, acquire more readers, by hook or by crook, share my insanity with more people, whether they want it or not. On the other hand, I must remain anonymous, deep in the Blogger Protection Program, if I continue to harp on actual events and people in my actual life. Woe is Mrs. Hillbilly Mom.
Would I even have enough material to fill a new blog? Some days, I barely scrape by with a daily post here, where I am comfortable, where I let my lovely lady-mullet down and bellow out my butt when people piss me off. Remember that? It used to be my motto. I've tried to tone it down lately.
I've been lucky so far, keeping my identity hidden. My blog buddy deadpan mean teacher mommy needing a xanax knows what I'm talking about. Sometimes, you've got to recreate yourself in order to have breathing room. And I'm not so keen on leaving comments many places with the blog name of Hillbilly Mom. You know how people react to us bitter prayin' gunclingers lately.
I'm thinking of venturing a little farther afield, shaking off my blog agoraphobia and dipping a gnarled toe into deeper waters. What's the worst that could happen? If I nearly drown, I can wash up here at the Mansion, bedraggled in my Victorian swimsuit, coughing and gasping, flailing my garage-nail-scarred arms, and continue this little hobby that has given me so much pleasure since 2005.
The Mansion will remain open for business. But service may be slow.
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6 comments:
Actually, your "people piss me off" scenarios are my favorite. When I find people who get aggravated at the same things that perturb me then I feel somewhat reconciled that my thinking is not totally wacko. Now when humor is added to that same scenario it becomes priceless for toning down my angst. Your blog has done this for me many times, thanks. Whatever direction you go, I hope it stays fun you (and for me)!
I seek you out for wisdom .....
I sometimes wish I had created a veil of anonymity with my blog. I edit my thoughts (a lot!!) and had to create another venue on which to vent. I find the local law enforcement to be less than effective and somewhat laughable. The sheriff (I did not vote for this man, as I consider him to be an idiot)reads my blog and has left some anonymous comments chastising me for my point of view. I hear that he logs on daily trying to find something illegal in my words. I would think he would have better things to do .........
Yes, I know all about "reinventing" your blogger identity. I also know about checking StatCounter, realizing that someone at the state dept of education is frequenting the blog where you tell detailed stories about how horrible it is to work in the school system, and reacting with a total freakout/blog deleting festival. Things weren't the same after that. Whatever you do, make sure you post a link to the new stompin grounds.
Oh, and I wouldn't worry about commenting elsewhere as Hillbilly Mom. Be a proud hillbilly. Don't let those America haters keep you down!
knancy,
This blog is my pressure valve. I can't name names, but I can let out the crazy. On my new venture, I will try to maintain a more even keel.
I give it about three weeks.
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Kathy,
Ah, yes. I'm a Hillbilly Yoda. A regular Mother Abigail, battling the Dark Man for my readers' souls.
I feel your pain. It's all fun and games until somebody has an ax to grind.
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Mommy Ann,
We have so much to lose, what with that pesky teaching certificate that's required for employment.
I haven't hooked up my StatCounter for the last two or three incarnations of the Mansion. But it WAS fun to look up those keyword searches that brought people here.
I will post a link when my new place is ready, then delete it later. Because I'm super-duper tricky like that.
You make me laugh
You make me cry
You make me pee my pants form laughing and crying at the same time.
You say things that we all wish we had the ability to say.
Maybe it's all that much better when/if/ you have/do teach/taught. Or have a family of teachers around you.
We will follow.. just because you are full of awesomeness.
Jennifer,
You are good for my ego. Sorry about the pants.
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