Inanity on Twitter

Parallel to participating in my friend Nichole's challenge, I have decided to post at least one inane/idiotic thing on Twitter every day for the next 30 days.

Today's post was: Ate leftover ribs for breakfast.

I want to see how many followers I lose before the month is up.

Incentive

When it comes to Facebook, Twitter and blogging, I simply get bored.

I don't like the silly Facebook applications.

I lack the frantic, ADD drive to share the slightest minutia, the brain diarrhea that seems to be required to thrive on Twitter.

I am much more attached to my blog, but I neglect it. I let the day to day grind keep me from taking time from something I enjoy. For a while I have been thinking that I should find some kind of imperative or structure to ensure I post regularly.

Nichole, one of my mommy board friends just created a new blog to document her progress on a self-imposed photography challenge. I loved the idea of the challenge: take and post seven photos each week for 52 weeks, gradually increasing the use of manual settings. So I have decided to join Nichole and accept the {seven}52 challenge. Anybody else wants to join?

If a tree falls in a forest...

Increasingly I have started questioning the wisdom of keeping this as a public blog. There are certain disclosures that I am no longer feeling so comfortable about sharing openly. It has been quite a long time since I have participated in any writing prompts or memes that require me to share links. I don't feel there's much incentive to keep it public.

Lately, when I have felt the need to get something off my chest, I have hesitated before blogging. The feelings/thoughts I want to unload are of a sort that could get me in trouble at work or invite trolls to heap abuse. The truth is, I no longer see my blog as my safe, quasi-anonymous, below the radar space. I even worry about perverts grabbing family pictures for seedy purposes. Perhaps I am being neurotic now. Perhaps I was way overconfident in the past about the lack of buzz keeping me relatively safe.

Despite my recent neglect, I have a lot of affection for this blog and what it represents. And I would benefit from a place where I can go back to speaking my mind freely when I need it, without worrying about the consequences. Thus, I am seriously considering making my blog private/by invitation only in the future. If you are one of my online or offline friends and you want to keep on reading, please leave a comment or send me a message and I will grant you access when I make the blog private.

So many outlets, so little to say...

I have this blog. I have a Facebook page. I have a Twitter account. I am mostly silent, preferring to post pictures more than anything else.

Presently, I lack a burning desire to communicate heartfelt memories. I have no scintillating confessions to share with the world, no deep thoughts to regale you with.

There's lot going on in the world, as always. Fraudulent elections and popular protests. Rogue nations threatening nuclear war. Thousands upon thousands of people losing their jobs. All of this is discussed in various digital outlets, bypassing established media constrictions and, in the case of Iran, government censorship. All of that is more interesting than whether I had a bagel or an English muffin for breakfast, and what are my plans for the weekend.

Lonely amid the chatter

I have this blog. I'm on Facebook. As of last week, I am on Twitter too. Yet I feel more isolated than ever. I have friends I have not spoken to in months, years even. I never invite people over, other than my in-laws. The house is too messy for visitors, and I never have the time or energy to fix that. Maybe I would have more time to get my life in order if I quit all these Internet vicarious living platforms.

Boricua in Texas

Once upon a time, a long time ago when I thought I would grow up to be someone important, I wrote a few short stories. Two of them got published in a book in the mid nineties. My claim to fame is that one of those stories was picked up to be used on a school text book back home. Not that I got much from it, really. A check for $300 about 4 years ago, I think.

Anyway, around the time that my stories were first published, someone tried to interview me. I can't remember who it was or in what context. Those years of my life are kind of a blur. All I remember is someone asked me a question about my voice and whom I represent. And I said I am not speaking for anybody but myself, a middle class female Puerto Rican of a certain age group and educational background. I would never presume that my voice or my writing is all-encompassing and representative of all Puerto Ricans. I can only write/speak from my circumstance. I can only write as Ingrid and for Ingrid, even when I am writing about the world beyond the tip of my nose.

I recall that interview often, when I think about my blog. Lots of people find their way into my blog by looking for the word "boricua" on the web. Some of them are searching for boricuas in Texas. I often wonder if these visitors are disappointed with what they find. I am not keeping a shrine to all things boricua. I am not selling tchotkes with coquíes or Puerto Rican flags in them. I am not usually talking about the latest celebrity scandal on the island. I am neither idolizing, nor am I bashing Americans. And I deliberately choose not to write about partisan politics. In short, I am very much a boricua female (and damn proud of it), but I may not be what they expect.

I do often allude to my native Puerto Rico and some of the cultural aspects that I miss the most. But overall, this blog is very personal in its scope. I write about my life, about what catches my fancy. I write about my family and the trials and triumphs that we go through. Mostly, I use the blog to chart the evolution of my mood, as someone who is prone to depression. However, lately I have been a bit reticent to open up online. Some things just need to be kept offline.

New blog banner

I needed a pick-me-up this morning, so I just updated my blog banner. What do you think?

Mellow Yellow Monday: Bookshelf

Today's Mellow Yellow Monday entry.

Mellow Yellow Monday: Fun at the playground

This post is part of the Mellow Yellow Monday blog meme.

I have posted this pic before on the blog, but I found it perfect for the meme, so I am posting it again.

747 *

Several bloggers whom I follow have lately been questioning why do they blog, hinting at the fact that they may discontinue the practice, or stating that nowadays they do not blog for the same reasons that drove them to it in the first place.

That's cool. People should not continue to do something they no longer feel passionate about. I believe in doing things because they bring me joy (unless we are talking about work, in which case I do it to earn a living). That probably explains why my house is always a mess. I do not derive much joy from housework (shocker!).

On the other hand, to have a written record of a person's growth and evolution is also a very cool thing. We do tend to go through cycles, but there is always some lesson learned, some change from one cycle to the next.



* The title of this post refers not to the commercial airplane from Boeing , but to the number of posts I have generated since I started blogging in November of 2006.
I was quite bloggy on 2007, wasn't I? Obviously I had a lot of stuff to unload back then.

Mellow Yellow Monday: Isabel's Birthday Party

I found out about Mellow Yellow Monday the way I always find out about these memes: through my friend and fellow blogger, Meleah.

Recently, my youngest daughter, Isabel, turned 4. I have already posted several pictures from that day, but I believe this one was not posted. So it's a perfect for my first Mellow Yellow Entry.

National Delurking Week

My friend and fellow blogger, Meleah Rebeccah, just posted to say it's National Delurking Week, a time of the year when bloggers invite lurkers (those who visit their blog, but do not comment) to make themselves known by leaving a comment.

I have a few regular readers that I am aware of, but I have always been curious whether there are people who check out the blog, but do not comment. It's time to make yourselves known, if you are out there! Whether you are a faithful reader, an ocassional browser or a lurker, please leave a comment on this post, so I know you are not a figment of my imagination...

The pendulum swings

It's a new day. I had a good night's sleep and made myself a nice cup of coffee this morning. I am sitting in front of the computer, and just finished rereading my last post from yesterday. Talk about depressing. Ugh. Downer!

Sometimes I wonder what readers will think of me. I alternate between posts showing happy pictures of my kids, and posts where I am in the throes of despair. Is my real life like that? Do I really oscillate between gloom and bliss?

Sometimes, yes. But not always. Often my life is more even-keeled. Absent is the gut-wrenching agony that oozes from certain posts. One might say that the reason I live a fairly normal life is because every once in a while I let the toxic runoff spill over my blog. But let's face it, other than my usual tendency to get depressed, I am incredibly lucky. In my daily life so far I have had the luxury of not needing to worry about violence or misery. For the most part, I am able to avoid intolerance of the political, religious or ethnic sort. The only reason why I am indulging in elucidations about my midlife crisis is because there are no more pressing matters vying for my attention.

One big thing that tends to be missing from this blog is humor. I have a dark and sarcastic sense of humor, but you would not know it from my writing. Humor helps me get through life. Well, that and my quasi-socialist rants about life in corporate America, which only Gabe and my mom get to listen to.

Adios, 2008

What a tumultuous year it was. Let's hope that things improve in the coming years.

In terms of this blog, 2008 was not as active as the previous year. I have posted about half of what I posted in 2007, and the last few entries have been photo and video postings. This year I did not participate in many writing challenges. The stresses of work occupied a bigger chunk of my time this year, and left me with little energy to attempt any creative endeavors, ruminations about life, or explorations of my feelings.

I do not know what will happen with the blog going forward. I have no intention to end it, but I have to find the spark again. I do not want my blog to be another chore I dread.

October Photography Challenge: Shadow

This is my entry for Graham Ettridge's October Photography Challenge. The theme of the challenge was: silhouette/shadow. I think the picture is self-evident.

Tinkering

I woke up early this morning and decided to play with the format of the blog. After moving things around a bit, testing other templates and getting annoyed at column widths, I decided to go back to what I had, with a few dfferences. I have changed some of the font colors, taken some things off and added a few things. I have a new blogroll widget, for example.

The biggest change is that I have a new banner. I played a little with Photoshop and came up with something that captures The sun and the moon, Puerto Rico and Texas. I like it.

598

Counting this one, I have generated 598 posts since I started this blog in November 2006. Wow. I am amazed I have been able to consistently post this long.

More than anything, this blog is a chronicle of my moods. That is why it has lasted this long, longer than any offline diary I have ever attempted to keep. The medium is definitely to be credited for this longevity. I can post images and songs. I can write a post about memories of my chilhood and have a link to a website with supplemental information. Most of all, I have an audience. No matter how small the number, someone out there is reading this. And that helps me focus and give direction to what I post. A writer is a teller of stories, and stories always need an audience. Like cooking for one person, it is no fun to write something that will never be seen by anybody but its creator. We are at our best when we are doing things for others to consume, be it cooking or writing.

The audience of this blog is mostly comprised of people I do not know in real life. I like it that way. It emboldens me to say stuff I would never say in front of other people, especially friends and family. I have also counted on the vastness of the Internet and my relative anonymity to keep my cover. My blog is a drop in a vast sea of blogs, with only a handful of regular readers.

Maybe I am being naive. If somebody really wanted to find out this blog, they would have no trouble doing so. I am not posting under a pseudonym. I post pictures of myself and my family. It would be easy to find. And yet, I am confident that nobody would go through the trouble.

I have never said anything that can put me at risk of anything other than embarrassment. I hardly talk about work, for example. And when I do, it is always in relation to my mood. I do not talk about actual sensitive work matters. To do so would be idiotic and not very professional.

Is there a value to this blog? What can it possibly contribute that is special and unique? I am just an ordinary person with an ordinary life. This blog is partly a record of that life. Maybe that is its value. As a trained historian, I like to think that in the distant future someone may look at this blog, among many others, as a glimpse of everyday life in the time we live in.

Blog post fragments

Quite often I start posts and never finish them. Periodically I go through the list of my posts on Blogger and purge these out. Once in a Blue Moon I finish a draft, but most of the time I have already moved on and lost interest.

The last few unfinished posts intrigue me somewhat. Make what you will of them.

Date: 3/27/2008
Title: Rambling

Sometimes I wonder if this is what a midlife crisis feels like.

Lately I find myself going through the motions, living day after day after fucking interminable day, the monotony of it all slowly killing me on the inside while a poor diet makes my outside swell like a balloon. I hate my life sometimes. Having my family by my side does not mitigate the ennui. Sometimes they annoy the hell out of me. The girls and their drama queen fits drain me. My husband, who is generous and supportive but also a knucklehead, also annoys me.

At least I am not alone. If I had no one else things would probably be worse.

I am bored, I am restless, I am angry. So very angry. I am sick and tired of walking on eggshells, of putting up with the fucking politics of people who love to spend their time pointing fingers and engaging in pointless analysis. I hate being proper, docile and subservient so I can get a fucking paycheck.

I wish I could speak my mind with no concern over consequences. I wish I could tell my employer (the company, not my actual boss) to go fuck itself. I hate that I have to exhibit a positive attitude at work, be a team player and all that crap, while having absolutely no guarantee at all that my performance and dedication will help me keep my job. At any moment I can be laid off in one of the perpetual cost optimization moves that my company engages in. At any time some brain dead jerk with an eye on the balance sheet may decide that someone in India or Central America can do my job for a fraction of the cost. And then it's bye-bye, we no longer need you, thank you for letting us suck you dry for eleven years.

The same week I wrote this, my 11-year anniversary at Big Computer came and went without any acknowledgment whatsoever on the part of the company. At least I still have a job.


Date: 3/31/2008
Title: Okay Monday

It was a busy day today, in a good way. It's been a while since I have felt good at work, so it was a nice change. I can't really pinpoint why today was different, it just was.

I had an early appointment for an eye exam. Just as I suspected, I need reading glasses now. I am getting old. Oh, well.


Date: 4/3/2008
Title: My life, or something like it:







Date: 4/4/2008
Title: “I’m not sure”


Today's Fiction Friday challenge is:
Describe a time your character gave up; and how it affected them for the rest of their life.

That pretty much sums it up, doesn't it?

Prompts

Meleah tagged me for a meme called Look at this stuff. The rules are:

A- Find five things around your house that say something about the person you are and take a picture of them.

B- Post the pictures and tell us about them.

I took more than five pictures, but I will try to group them in five areas in a way that makes sense.

1- My bookcase shelves.



Not only do I love the little flower vase, which I painted myself in one of my rare forays into crafting, but some of my favorite books are on the shelves pictured here. Among others, there are Shirley Jackson and Roald Dahl short story collections, plus Cat's Eye and Alias Grace by Marget Atwood; there's In the Time of the Butterflies by Julia Alvarez and Separate Checks by Marianne Wiggins; last, there's Wide Sargasso Sea, Quartet and Good Morning, Midnight by Jean Rhys.



The shelves also have pictures of my two biggest loves, Paula (right, at 8 months old) and Isabel (at 1.5 years old), and a little memento from Puerto Rico (a ceramic replica of a colonial-style building from Old San Juan). Looking at this particular shelf makes me happy.



Other shelves contain pictures and the photo albums of my wedding to Gabe. I treasure these, as they remind me of what a great day that was, and how happy we were when we took our vows. Sometimes, when the stresses of daily life get to be too much, I look at them and remember how cool it is to have someone on your corner.

2- My pets

I am not the kind of person that fawns over pets much. This is why I have cats and not dogs. I adopted them from the Houston SPCA a year after moving to Houston from Puerto Rico. I did it because I felt Paula, who was 3 at the time, was lonely and needed someone other than me to love on a daily basis. We had no family living nearby.

My cats are a pain in the ass, but I love them.



Mister was 2.5 years old when I adopted him in July 2001. That means he is around 9 years old now. Mister eats too much and can't be bothered to play with cat toys much. He is also a love junkie, and will sit on your lap when you are watching TV.



Lola was an 8 week-old kitten when I adopted her. That makes her 7 years old now. She has no clue she is considered a "senior" cat. And you would not think it either from looking at her. Lola is the dynamo, the whirlwind, the one who runs like crazy, chews cables, sneaks into my bedroom if we so much as crack the door open, and jumps on top of the highest shelves. She is the reason why I have a quilt covering the new living room couch, so she doesn't shred it to pieces with her claws.

Speaking of declawing, when we bought the couch last December we talked about declawing the cats so they would not destroy the new furniture. Then I did some research online, and we decided not to subject them to that procedure.

3- My bedroom



In January I used my bonus from work to buy some furniture for the master bedroom. This is my vanity table. I love it, but I don't use it nearly as much as I would like, at least during the week. I am always running late, putting my hair in ponytails and applying make up (if any) on the drive to work.

If you look closely, you will see dust bunnies on the floor. I suck at housekeeping (more to come on that).



I love this picture. It's a peaceful corner of the bedroom. I love the chest of drawers; I think it encompasses very well the style of furniture I like. The bathroom door is open, and so you get a peek of the bathtub, very inviting.

4- Art on the walls



My favorite piece of artwork on the walls is not even an original. It's my reproduction of Paul Klee's Senecio, pictured above. My favorite art movements are from the early 20th century, specifically the Modern Art movements that arose between the first and second world wars.

I also love art from Puerto Rico. This is an original lithograph I bought from an artisan back home. It depicts the Three Kings (or Wise Men) riding horses on the Puerto Rican countryside. The Three Kings and all sorts of Catholic Saints play a huge part in our artisan traditions. The practice of making wooden carvings of the saints goes as far back as the 1500's. You can see some examples or Puerto Rican arts and crafts here. I tried to find a non-commercial site to share with you, but could find none. Hopefully someday that will change.

5- The ever-present mess.

As I said before, I am not a good housekeeper. I work full-time and when I get home at 6:30 PM every day, I need to cook dinner and take care of the kids. Often, I don't have time to do housework or I am too tired. Plus, I do have issues with organization. And we have way too much crap. So I get overwhelmed quite easily. Oh, how I wish I had a simpler, sparser life.



Piles of laundry.



Boxes of crap that were in storage until recently and have yet to be put back where they belong.

And more, much more.

Out of words

Every day I get these reports that show how many visitors and page views my blog gets. For a while now I have been watching my stats dwindle due to lack of posting and not participating in the weekly writing projects I frequently partook of in the past. I have never had much readers, but there was a time when I got between 30 and 45 readers daily. Nowadays I am lucky if I get 7 or 8. I am still not sure how I feel about it.

Yesterday I saw a goodbye post from somebody whose blog I used to love. She had not been active since December, and yesterday she wrote to say goodbye.

Ebb and flow. Peaks and valleys. Is that it? Am I stuck in the valley with nowhere to go? Is this a phase as I suspected before from looking at the previous year's trending? Or has blogging lost its appeal to me?

For years I have had an uneasy relationship with writing. When I was in college I was an avid writer. Then I lost the drive, the fire inside, and I have never been able to recover it. For years I chastised myself. I used to think I should be writing. I would ask myself, why am I not doing it? Am I lazy? Do I not have anything to say?

I don't consider myself a writer anymore, not in the literary sense. But I used to love blogging. And now I feel like the well is dry. Is this just a phase or have I run out of words? I really don't know. All I know is that my heart is not in it right now.