Category Archives: Informative

Obsessed with the blog

I know I haven’t posted for almost a week, but here’s the thing. My greatest fear has been realized. You will recall in my second post I posited that blogging about being shallow might make me less shallow. I have to be honest, the only reason I got into this blogging thing was because of the enormous potential blogs have to generate wealth. I did my research, I know there are financially successful blogs out there. I mean if “Stuff White People Like” can make money surely a blog about being and becoming shallow can’t be far behind. Let’s face it, who doesn’t want a “Shallow and Proud” t-shirt to wear at their next school reunion or better yet, a “Shallow Be My Name” mug to display prominently on their desk at work? But now that seemingly flippant, off-the-cuff question, created for the primary purpose of literary symmetry, has come back to bite me pretty hard. It would appear that this blog has elicited in me a response that most other things in my life have failed to do and I have become obsessed. If I actually believed it could happen I might say I am having an out of body experience.

I first noticed that things might be going sideways when I found myself incessantly hitting the refresh button to see how many hits I had. The robust tracking that WordPress provides is both a blessing and a curse. At about the same time my followers grew to eight, far exceeding my wildest dreams not to mention RC’s predictions which had seemed like a pipedream to me at the time. So what if RC is my brother who writes an awesomely funny blog on another network which I don’t think I can mention here, and I follow him. Who cares that another is a colleague of mine who, at my suggestion, decided that being a follower was easier than typing in the URL. The three followers who work for me really do have a choice, and our HR person may or may not be following for the sole purpose of compiling evidence for my next performance review. And I am sure that other bloggers have even more than two friends committed to following if for no other reason than to show their support. The very fact that there are eight has made me a believer that one day someone I don’t know will become a follower too.

Next I started telling everyone about the blog, sharing the URL at meetings encouraging my faculty colleagues to visit if only because it is “an interesting link with a rather well developed instructional component”, masterfully slipping it into conversations with people I only very occasionally run into at the grocery store (the tomatoes are lovely and on sale and did you know I am writing a blog now?) and even getting friends and family to share it with their friends and family on facebook. Apparently while in some kind of euphoric state resulting from yet another comment made in response to a posting, I even promised to buy my Mother a computer just to increase my readership.

All of this has led me to spending an inordinate amount of time sitting in my favourite chair writing, rewriting, editing, re-editing and generally musing about what to write next. I even pre-write, and for those of you who don’t have the same formal English credentials as I, that’s when you run out of the bathroom, jot down an idea in its most primitive form returning later to flesh it out and give it the attention it deserves. But while I can define this process it still seems odd to me. In university I didn’t even know what a first draft was! I hardly recognize myself anymore. This is not what I do! At least it wasn’t what I did, but now apparently it is. For those who have taken the time not only to read but to comment and engage in the more personal back and forth banter with the author exploiting the interactive nature of what would otherwise be a rather one dimensional medium and for those whose comments are still swirling in their minds not yet ready to be openly expressed, I will continue to write.

Yes I am afraid that writing about being shallow has in fact become an obsession, worse perhaps, a passion, and damn it! it hasn’t made me one red cent yet.

WWAFS

I default to wearing black T-shirts. It’s not like I get up in the morning and say “I think I’ll wear a black T-shirt today”. It’s just that as I stand in my closet trying to decide what to wear I gravitate to them. It’s easy. I mean, what doesn’t go with a black T-shirt? Throw a cardi over it and you’ve got an outfit. And I’m ok with that…at least I was ok with it until one day when I was visiting my Auntie Fannie (have I mentioned she’s 93 years old and lives with my Mother) she looked at me and said “you should wear something more feminine”.

Now I had never really thought about my black t-shirts in this way, nor for that matter my Toms, which I wear primarily for the dual purpose of making me appear to be a good person while still looking cool. But now that my Auntie Fannie mentioned it, I realized that not only was she being honest, she was also being right. And while some people may have been less than pleased with this sudden revelation I knew that at that very moment Auntie Fannie had just made my life infinitely easier. Here’s why.

As a shallow person the decision-making process has never been particularly onerous since I usually just vacillate between “whatever” and “sure”, the latter being infinitely more positive than the former. But where things sometimes fall apart is in the level of confidence I have in my decisions. I am not always confident that I am making the right decision. The problem is that I don’t really have a reliable barometer to measure my decisions against. But at the very moment that my Auntie Fannie called me out on my attire I knew that my days of uncertainty were over. I knew that all I needed to do when making a decision was listen to that little voice in my head that implored me to consider what Auntie Fannie would say (WWAFS). I mean what more can you ask for from any decision than it be honest and right? And since it’s working so well for me I thought it could help you too.

You may have your own “Auntie Fannie” (if so just make the necessary changes to the acronym) but if you don’t you can use mine. Trust me, she’ll never give you a bum steer. In the meantime, if you’re looking for a safe bet, put your money on me wearing a dress next time I go for a visit.

I understand

I know that not everyone is or aspires to be shallow and that’s fine by me. Not only do I get it, I even understand the gap between my way of being and theirs. And while I am not currently inclined to try to build any bridges, the idea of doing so has never seemed insurmountable. Take travel for example.

A few years ago I ran into an old classmate of mine, had one of those “catch-up” chats, the kind you have after not having seen or thought of someone for 40 years, and then went home and immediately googled him, as anyone would. What I discovered was truly awe-inspiring. Both he and his wife have traveled to remote villages in various parts of the world, always living among the people in an effort to not only better understand them, but to learn from them and give back in whatever way they are able. They write about living intentionally and yoga, and the spiritual nature of their surroundings. They write about a room they found on the beach and they are happy because it has hot water, unlike the last. I so admire what they are doing and for a brief moment I even imagine what it would be like travel the world the way they do.

And then I remember…I collect Hyatt points. That gap might be wider than I thought.

We have a mantra

I woke up this morning to the realization that I have been at this blog posting thing for an entire week. I may not have posted each day of the week but I did “think” about posting almost every day so the commitment is there. And in the life of a shallow person a one week commitment is pretty significant. I don’t think there is any scientific evidence for this, like there is for the dogs, but I’m going to go out on a limb and say that one shallow week is the equivalent of a year or so in other people’s time. I mean I can hardly think of anything that I have stuck with for more than a week. Ok, so I played Farmville for two and a half years but I’m not sure that’s a good example. And I did finish knitting a scarf last winter but it turned out shorter than I had originally planned. No, as I sit here racking my brain trying to think of “things I have done for more than a week” I’m drawing a blank. But this is different. I have found a purpose, a goal so to speak and I am carrying it out through the writing of this blog. I have followers, and I can put that in the plural because there are two, so now it’s important for me to find a way to stick with this. What can I do to make this work?  What will make me commit to this for longer than a week?

After some thought I decided the answer was to create a mantra. If mantras keep other people focused, why not me? So here it is. My mantra is “one week at a time”. Now that I have written it down it sounds vaguely familiar. But I’m going with it. I’ve made it through one week and I think I can make it through one more. And maybe one more after that. I’m happy to share my mantra if you think it will work for you too. Just be careful with it. You don’t want to get too far ahead of yourself.

Born this way

As you may imagine I am not really into party politics.  And before you judge, remember I live in a province where the choice is between “Right” and “More Right”. But when a politician uses the lyrics of a pop song as a reference point for his rather draconian ideas about who should live how, well that gets my attention.  Throw in a little fire and brimstone and you really got me thinking.  And so it was that I began to wonder if being shallow was something I learned or could it be a genetic trait?  Do I have a choice? In other words, was I just born this way?

Now I love my Mother.  She’s a sophisticated, smart business woman who at 96 years old (no that’s not a typo) lives in her own condo and still fries up a mean bull’s eye.  But as I pondered this question a recent conversation we had came to mind.  It went something like this:

Mother: So what’s going on with that election in Alberta?
Me: Well Danielle Smith seems to be gaining ground.  We’re a little concerned.
Mother: Isn’t she the leader of the Wild Rose Party?
Me: That’s the one.  You know, the ones who don’t believe in climate change, think two-tiered health care will fix the lines, figure white people understand other white people best, and are pretty sure that gays are going to burn in hell.
Mother:  Yes, I’ve seen her on TV and it’s too right wing for me.  But you know, she’s a lovely looking woman.

Yep…I love my Mom but I think I’m gonna have to go with Lady GaGa on this one.