Grey and Blue and Other Shades in Between





 

 

I shouldn't really be blogging today. It's not that I really have a whole lot to say, but rather that I wanted to stay in the habit of at least writing something once a week. I get in a rut at times and before I know it, weeks have passed and I have failed to sit down and actually try and compose something. What is the point of blogging when a person doesn't even write?

 

Today started out with blue skies and a grey mood and it gradually graduated thru the day to greying skies and a darkening grey mood. I hate days that are like that.

 

You would think with the extra hour of sleep because of the time change, and being a Sunday that I would have relished sleeping in, and I would have if it weren't for the excessive scratching of a cat that continually lives up to her namesake of being a stink pot.

 

She has developed an annoying habit of scratching when she wants something. It started out innocently enough when she was a small kitchen. She would scratch a closed door, wanting to see what was on the other side. She would keep it up til I had to open the door or risk splintering wood work. She started scratching on the wall near her food bowl when it was empty. She would scratch, glance back to look at me, and then continue her scratching ways until tended too. I don't know how to break her of this habit either. At first I thought it was rather cute and funny that somehow thru a wierd Pavlovian experiment I had become the trainee instead of the trainer. It's not so funny any more, especially at 4:30 in the a.m.

 

It seemed to set the precedent for the whole day. Little things that irritate or got under my skin seemed to be excessively encroaching upon my day. I even found myself reading and commenting on some blogs on another page that had me wondering if my reply or comment was too curt, too limited as to appear blase` or flippant.

 

I have to admit that as my afternoon has gone on, I was ready to throw in the towel when logging on here and being told that google plus wasn't happy with my profile. I sounded fake and hollow and that nobody in their right mind would want to google or search for me on their ever expanding website. I realize just writing this crabby comment that I might even end up suspended, shut off and told to move my whiney butt off to somewhere else. I feel like I am about done some days with all of this blogging stuff.

 

A huge part of me wonders why in the world can't I just write and think out loud and be left to type my rambling words and what does it matter that I haven't given a searchable name for people to find me in my tiny rural area. That people might want to stop by, share a cup of coffee, and maybe stalk me for a short while before stabbing that knife in my chest while I incoherently whisper, "but it's just a blog for goodness sakes"... Okay I am being sooo overly dramatic and babyish, but I don't care.

 

That is what blogs are suppose to be about. You are suppose to be able to write your opinions and thoughts and have people read those words and comment on if they want. It's not about whether they agree with what you are saying or disagree or anything in between. It's about having a voice, just one voice, even if it's just inside my head and wanting to get out.

 

It's not like it's politics. It's not like who I am telling you to vote or not to vote for. I don't support either candidate, I think they both suck and I am not about to tell someone on who or what they can believe in.

 

I guess politics find their way into everything though and that includes blog sites. There are the liberal fun sites with games and the more serious, how dare do you mock our searchable profile list of other sites.

 

I realize that they are wanting to prevent spam, to prevent any sort of problems or backlash or complaints from others, I get that. But there is no way in heck (see I can self edit), that I am going to give out my real name. How in the world will I ever be able to complain about Aunt Bertha's disgusting holiday casserole, or the bi-polar ex-sister-in-law that keeps going off the deep end? How do I keep from stepping on toes, offending those who see themselves or THINK they see themselves in my free flowing words?

 

It's a fine line this blogging stuff. I don't want to have a blog where stuff is copied and pasted or where I come across as some sort of imaginary expert in some field that will have you all agog at my extensive wealth of bs.

 

Maybe I am expecting too much from this blogging stuff. That thinking out loud and posting those thoughts is taboo. That kind of free thinking is not allowed and I need to be more of a conformist and limit my blogs to pics of home, family, garden, pets, trips, and be like the other thousands of blogs out there.

 

I want more. It's not that I want controversy and to be a pot stirrer or some sort of blogging rebel. I want to be able to write what I am thinking at this very moment, and in the next moment...and the next... without worrying that the neighbor down the street read my blog and is peeved because I called them the "noisy, has to keep up with the Joneses" kinda neighbor.

 

So yeah, I want some anonymity... I don't even know if I spelled that word right, but yeah, I want to be a blogger with some sort of dark spy glasses and a trench coat. Trust me, I won't flash anyone, it's way too cold and I am way too puritanical in some respects.

 

Maybe I should stop ranting. Maybe I should close the lid on the laptop and walk away for a bit. Maybe I should walk away from blogging from a bit and keep looking for a place that might not even exist.

 

I don't know. I do know that just this morning I was thinking, ya know, maybe I will pick this place over all of the others because it is more about blogging. There aren't the distractions of games and quizzes and poke buttons and all of those other goofy things that are fun at times and annoying at others.

 

I guess I have to wait and see. Wait for that confirmation that I am real and searchable and all of those other things that this blog site thinks I should be.

 

If they find me, I hope that they will let me know. I have been looking for the real me for years.