This week's post comes from the wonderful writer, Brett Minor, who is probably minor to none in his world. He's certainly important to me. Visit his blog at The Transformed NonConformist.
I was so excited when I heard that I had won the Pish Posh Challenge this time around. The last time Pish did this challenge, I was on the road during the time to write the follow up post and didn't get to submit on time. However, since I had failed miserably, I really didn't feel like showing my face yet.
When she offered the challenge up again, I was determined to suck less this time. This is specifically why I stayed away from any type of fitness goal. Don't get me wrong; I could stand to get in shape as much as anyone else, but I rarely meet my goals in this arena. In fact, I rarely made it to the arena at all until I got a miniature chocolate one to keep in my fridge. I start out strong, but soon plateau and then get frustrated. I get going just fast enough that it really hurts when I hit that wall. Plus, it's not like my goals are really that aggressive anyway. I'm not trying to get to the point that I would be comfortable with mirrors in my bedroom, but I would like to be able to disrobe without getting winded. I am tired of having to pre-plan my routine to best use gravity to my advantage.
Since a fitness or even healthy eating goal would end in abject failure, I decided to keep those Girl Scout cookies goals to myself and work on them without the blogging world watching me crash and burn. After much thought and Twinkies, my mind wandered to my blog and the book Pish Posh published that myself and 15 other bloggers contributed to. I love blogging and really wanted to stretch myself as a writer. I love the fact that there is a book out there with my writings in it and want to see another one. Eventually, I would even like to write one myself. I decided to set a writing goal forcing me to write more often. I challenged myself to post at least five times a week for the eight weeks of the challenge.
It was tough, but I did it. I never missed a day. I owe part of my success to the fact that I could meet this challenge while sitting on my butt in front of the TV eating frozen pizza and Doritos. Despite those conveniences, writing that often still had it's challenges.
I typically write two or three times a week, so this was a step up. Writing almost every day poses the challenge of coming up with things to write about. While I do have an uncanny tendency to get myself into situations that are ripe for blog fodder, I do not have those experiences everyday. This means I have to write more opinion pieces, observational posts or pull stories from my past.
This often encountered dilemma is one of the reasons I envy certain bloggers like Pish Posh. She shares a quality with several other bloggers that I do not have. Nellie Vaughn of Buttons Are Not Currency, Red of Doesn't Speak Klingon, Misty of Misty's Laws, and Lily of Incoherent Ramblings of a Moose all have something in common besides boobs.
No one knows who these women are!
(Note: I am not trying to downplay these womens' boobs. I am sure they are lovely. I like boobs. I'm actually a big fan, but they're not really part of the point I am trying to make here. Maybe I'll come back to them later.)
They get to tell their stories behind the curtain of anonymity. That is a luxury I do not have. I call it a luxury because it opens up so many more possibilities to a blogger that I had not considered when I first started. These women can say anything they want.
I must admit that I enjoy being recognized for the things I do. I love seeing my face on TV. I jump at the chance to be on the radio. I enjoy hearing my name mentioned by other people. I get a high out of running into people on the street who comment on my latest blog post. I can easily admit that I am an attention whore. However, a year after I started, the vast majority of my readers were no longer people that I knew personally. As I started to explore what I could do with my writing, I had to continue to keep in mind that my mother reads what I write. My kids see it, as do many of the people at my church.
It's not that I want to write anything vastly inappropriate or dark, but sometimes I have thoughts that I choose not to share since I rub shoulders with some of the people who read my words. I have told many stories from my past, but I heavily edit them. I may mention that alcohol was involved with a decision, but I keep most of the juicier details to myself and pray that anyone who was there doesn't choose to tell the rest of the story in the comments.
Everyone understands that people have pasts, but I work in a homeless shelter, I actively volunteer with youth, and I am a substitute teacher. It would come back to bite me sooner or later if I started sharing about the time I was so drunk I woke up three states away or when I planted marijuana on the baseball field at school. Some of those stories will have to only whispered quietly behind closed doors.
In the meantime, I will tell my little stories. At least, the parts that I feel I can comfortably share without repercussions. Pish, thank you so much for this opportunity and enjoy your veil of secrecy while the rest of us expose ourselves on a daily basis.
Oh, I almost forgot...BOOBIES!
I can say that because I am not on my blog.
I was so excited when I heard that I had won the Pish Posh Challenge this time around. The last time Pish did this challenge, I was on the road during the time to write the follow up post and didn't get to submit on time. However, since I had failed miserably, I really didn't feel like showing my face yet.
When she offered the challenge up again, I was determined to suck less this time. This is specifically why I stayed away from any type of fitness goal. Don't get me wrong; I could stand to get in shape as much as anyone else, but I rarely meet my goals in this arena. In fact, I rarely made it to the arena at all until I got a miniature chocolate one to keep in my fridge. I start out strong, but soon plateau and then get frustrated. I get going just fast enough that it really hurts when I hit that wall. Plus, it's not like my goals are really that aggressive anyway. I'm not trying to get to the point that I would be comfortable with mirrors in my bedroom, but I would like to be able to disrobe without getting winded. I am tired of having to pre-plan my routine to best use gravity to my advantage.
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| Available on Amazon for $2.99 |
It was tough, but I did it. I never missed a day. I owe part of my success to the fact that I could meet this challenge while sitting on my butt in front of the TV eating frozen pizza and Doritos. Despite those conveniences, writing that often still had it's challenges.
I typically write two or three times a week, so this was a step up. Writing almost every day poses the challenge of coming up with things to write about. While I do have an uncanny tendency to get myself into situations that are ripe for blog fodder, I do not have those experiences everyday. This means I have to write more opinion pieces, observational posts or pull stories from my past.
This often encountered dilemma is one of the reasons I envy certain bloggers like Pish Posh. She shares a quality with several other bloggers that I do not have. Nellie Vaughn of Buttons Are Not Currency, Red of Doesn't Speak Klingon, Misty of Misty's Laws, and Lily of Incoherent Ramblings of a Moose all have something in common besides boobs.
No one knows who these women are!
(Note: I am not trying to downplay these womens' boobs. I am sure they are lovely. I like boobs. I'm actually a big fan, but they're not really part of the point I am trying to make here. Maybe I'll come back to them later.)
They get to tell their stories behind the curtain of anonymity. That is a luxury I do not have. I call it a luxury because it opens up so many more possibilities to a blogger that I had not considered when I first started. These women can say anything they want.
![]() |
| Yes, that's me. LOOK AT ME!!! |
It's not that I want to write anything vastly inappropriate or dark, but sometimes I have thoughts that I choose not to share since I rub shoulders with some of the people who read my words. I have told many stories from my past, but I heavily edit them. I may mention that alcohol was involved with a decision, but I keep most of the juicier details to myself and pray that anyone who was there doesn't choose to tell the rest of the story in the comments.
Everyone understands that people have pasts, but I work in a homeless shelter, I actively volunteer with youth, and I am a substitute teacher. It would come back to bite me sooner or later if I started sharing about the time I was so drunk I woke up three states away or when I planted marijuana on the baseball field at school. Some of those stories will have to only whispered quietly behind closed doors.
In the meantime, I will tell my little stories. At least, the parts that I feel I can comfortably share without repercussions. Pish, thank you so much for this opportunity and enjoy your veil of secrecy while the rest of us expose ourselves on a daily basis.
Oh, I almost forgot...BOOBIES!
I can say that because I am not on my blog.




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