Category Archives: Writing

Writing my own story

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  • Five Ways to Become A Better Decorator!
    *Sponsored by The Decorating Company
  • Eight Things Not To Put On Your Resume!
    *Sponsored by The HR Company
  • Four Easy Steps to Be Organized!
    *Sponsored by The Organizing Company
  • Nineteen Cute New Summer Fashions!
    *Sponsored by The Fashion Company
  • Seven Ways This Special Product Will Change Your Life!
    *Sponsored by The Product Company

I have not written any of the above-mentioned totally fake blog posts (and fake sponsorships, obvs).  But the honest truth is that in my regular interaction with the Interwebs and Blogland in general, I probably wouldn’t click on any of those links either. It seems that for the most part the “popular” blogs and blog posts around today are, if not sponsored, specifically written for optimized traffic, optimized SEO, and are hopefully published with a little wish for Viral Status. I know a couple of people who read/used to read this blog accept sponsorships and are able to supplement their family income by writing posts about products or services that interact with their regular, normal lives. Most of you weave sponsored content with your own real life content.

And–and I really want to be clear here–THAT IS JUST FINE.

And yet.

I miss the stories.

I miss the relationships that came from those stories.

I miss the back-and-forth of comments and emails and [insert social media platform of choice here] that grew from laughing and crying and empathizing with those stories.

Let me be honest and blunt: I probably won’t have a real connection with how those five ways have made you a Better Decorator, and so I will skim and move on to another post; where I won’t have a connection/conversation with How To Improve my Resume, so I will move on; and I won’t have a real response to How To Be Organized; so I will move on to no connection with the curated List of Fashionable Summer Items (trendy, expensive, consumerist); and the life changing Products will be just another list of sponsored marketing that I suspect will not actually Change My Life. I will, however, probably feel more and more that The Internet is not a place for my stories because they aren’t polished and optimized and sponsored and written with the intent to generate traffic and clicks. Ain’t nobody need to feel like Blogland is no longer welcoming.

Again, let me reiterate that if you have published a post like one mocked listed above, THAT IS TOTALLY FINE! It’s just….it’s not entirely my cup of tea. Sometimes, sure. But it can get kind of tiring and depressing to feel like my feed reader is one big long commercial. I have DVR and Netflix for a reason: I hate commercials.

And, again, I miss the stories. I miss the thought-out essays and emotive paragraphs about Real Life. The interactions and un-polished lives of people I learned to adore through their non-Pinterested, non-SEO, not-even-photographed writing. I miss you! And, I also miss me, the part of me that used to flourish in that online space. I know I can do better at contributing my own stories, and this post is definitely an attempt at such. Let us all write our stories, for ourselves, for our friends (cyber and otherwise), and yes, even for those total weirdo strangers who dabble in Internetting. (Hi, Weirdo Stranger!) After all, once upon a time, not so long ago, we were all Weirdo Internet Strangers, looking for stories and friends and connections in our computers; and look where our stories have brought us.

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Also, in a piece of non-sponsored, genuine link-back: this post was inspired by Abbersnail.

Taking out my anger on a Post-it

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Over the last six months (ok, really, over the last three-and-a-half years), Mr. Blue Eyes and I have been fighting with his ex-wife on some pretty outrageous things: Blue Eyes wants to be able to spend time with his kids on a regular basis, and talk to them on the phone on a regular basis. Crazy, right? At any rate, we are finally to what I hope is the final stage of this latest battle, and I don’t want to jinx it, but it might actually look like we are not going to have to go to court. Maybe. I mean, who knows, when you are dealing with CrAzY you can never really be sure, even after a judge stamps his approval and the thing is in effect “law.” CrAzY don’t care about “law,” she cares about what is most beneficial to HER at this particular moment in time. (Note: Not most beneficial to the kids in question, that would be reasonable and show some demonstrated good feeling and caring towards them; no, she wants what is most beneficial for herself or as a second-best option, what is the worst possible outcome for Blue Eyes. A real gem, this one.)

At any rate, I have tried a number of mostly unsuccessful ways to deal with my frustration at this whole situation, my anger, and to try and process my emotions. Honestly, most of them are generally ineffectual, though I’d like a sticker for trying. But today, after the latest bizarre demand, I found something that simultaneously validated my anger and frustrations, helped to control and minimize the over-the-top negative feelings I was having, and soothed my heart and my nerves.

I wrote everything on a post-it. Not a series of post-its, just one post-it.

Postitnoteanger_feistyharriet_March 2015

I wrote over words again and again, filling every corner of this little piece of sticky paper with rants and scribbles and possibly a few swears and curses thrown in her general direction. As I both let out my anger and also saw it being compressed into a neat little square, I started to feel immeasurably better. Her behavior is absolutely not okay, and mostly illegal (don’t get me started on The System and how it was built and is perpetuated to generally fuck with fathers and overcompensate mothers who are willing to lie and cheat for personal gain), but as I saw all this swirling, heavy, dark stuff turn into abstract curls and lines of pale blue ink….it started to not seem quite so terrible. It’s terrible, don’t mistake me, but it’s only one little blue swirl of terrible that is confined to a three inch square. And that is something that I can deal with. I don’t like it, but I can deal with it.

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Harriet: Age 32

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Today I turn thirty two years old, an age that seems both impossibly mature and still only the beginning of my adult life. I’ve been thinking about how I could commemorate my birthday every year, a kind of State of my Blog Union (Blogunion?) for the events of last year and the hopes and dreams for the next. So, in that vein, I am re-purposing one of those popular end-of-the-year recap formats and I hope to update this once a year to celebrate making it another rotation around the sun.

How will you spend your birthday?
I am going to work, probably taking myself out for a sort-of fancy lunch, taking part of the afternoon off for a pedicure, then picking Mr. Blue Eyes up at the airport so we can spend the weekend together. He is taking me to my very favorite seafood restaurant so I can splurge on crab cakes. Mmmmmm, crab cakes! The rest of the weekend will be spent cuddling and ordering take out and loving on each other.

Compared to this time last year, are you: a) happier or sadder? b) thinner or fatter? c) richer or poorer?
Happier; thinner; richer (thank you, work promotion and raise!).

What did you do last year that you’ve never done before?
I was quoted in the newspaper on a new work-related program that I implemented this fall to wild, state-wide success.

What was your favorite discovery last year?
Audio books. I am still kind of floored that I can download a real life human who patiently READS ME A BOOK, they do all the voices and never need a break, and I can listen while I drive, work out, or hang out at home. I mean, talk about on-demand luxury! No one has read aloud to me in 20 years, and now I can have this over-the-top experience every single day. Give me ALL THE AUDIO BOOKS!!!

What do you hope to learn this coming year?
I want to continue to improve my oil painting skills, and learn how to make ice cream. Really good ice cream.

What would you like to have this year that you didn’t have last year?
A dishwasher.

What was your biggest achievement of this year?
For almost 18 months I had been consistently working towards a promotion at work, the funding for said promotion was approved by the legislature last March and in June I was offered a fantastic new job in my department. I am so proud of myself for working towards this for so long and putting in the time, effort, and energy to ensure I was the most qualified candidate for the position. (Also, yes, I’m a state employee, all funding must go through the legislature…yes, it’s a freaking hassle, but whatever, tax payer dollars and checks-and-balances, and all that jazz.)

What was your biggest failure?
I spent a lot of the year angry, hurt, and full of anxiety. Now, I understand that part of this is due to some chemical imbalances in my brain that I cannot blame myself for, but I also think there are some ways I could have been more proactive in reducing those scary and hurtful feelings and move forward in a better place. Baby steps, folks. Baby steps.

Where did you travel this year?
Multiple trips to Arizona and Montana (experiencing a nearly 130 degree (F) temperature differential); Chicago; Denver; as well as several in-state trips both for work and for fun.

Do you have a destination in mind for next year?
I would love to go to Turkey, Spain, Greece, or Paris for Thanksgiving…it’s kind of a pipe dream right now, but I can’t stop thinking about the idea.

What did you get really excited about?
I geeked out this year about Charles Darwin, big time. Seriously, if you had more then 3 conversations with me in the last 12 months it is more than likely that I brought up Darwin at some point.

What do you wish you’d done more of?
Traveling, particularly short weekend trips. I miss having an almost-always packed weekend bag and a constantly increasing pile of travel photos and memories.

What do you wish you’d done less of?
Fighting. Fighting with myself; fighting with Blue Eyes; fighting (on Blue Eyes’ team) against his crazy-ass ex-wife; fighting anxiety and irrational fears; fighting to be understood.

What was the best book you read?
Ooooh, how do I even answer this question!?! I re-read East of Eden again and am still completely in-love with those characters, stories, and language; but as for new reads, I think the one that has stuck with me the longest is Madam Secretary by Madeline Albright. Recommended!

What did you want and get?
A new-to-me, adorable, surprise car. Miss Persimini makes me smile every time I see her. And she’s SUPER fast…not that I have ever gone even one mile above the posted legal speed limit….Ahem.

What did you want and not get?
Besides a pony? A pair of knee-height cognac-colored flat-ish boots. I’m still hunting for the perfect pair.

What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
A judge standing up to Blue Eyes’ ex-wife’s illegal, irrational, and hurtful behavior and possibly handing down massive fines and a permanent record of her crazy bullshit. She is seriously a bad person and I wish someone with authority to force her to change or improve would recognize it. The system surrounding child custody, visitation, and preventing crazy, jealous, vindictive parents from unleashing their anger on their ex-spouse (and thereby hurting the children) is so, so, broken. And expensive. And just, it’s a mess.

What kept you sane?
Painting until all hours of the night; losing myself in books; lots of lengthy conversations with dear friends; soothing snuggles and hair pats from Blue Eyes; and, quite literally, anti-anxiety medication.

What political issue stirred you the most?
This one continues to grow for me, I am so annoyed and irritated by the lack of true gender equality in all its forms. I can get riled up about feminism and why more people should care more about it in about 2 seconds flat. I want more people to understand the actual definitions of patriarchy, benevolent sexism, and feminism. Hint: “feminism” does not mean “man hating.” It is really just the radical notion that women are people too and deserve the same full range of rights and benefits as their male counterparts. If you think feminism = man-hating you really need to educate yourself and examine why you think that, i.e. what person or institution is trying to convince you that championing the rights of women is somehow a negative thing.

Did you fall in love?
Yes. After a pretty rough patch, I fell in love again with Mr. Blue Eyes. And I think we are finally back to a really good place. And that’s all I’m going to say about that right now. Wink.

Who did you miss?
My sweetheart. Blue Eyes moved 700 miles away more than 4 months ago for work and to be closer to his tweenage kids. We have some long-term plans in place for me joining him, but that doesn’t help reduce the hole in my heart.

Did you learn a valuable life lesson this year?
Ages ago Amber posted this on her blog, and I’ve had it on a post-it note on my wall ever since:

My hackles are raised. I want to give them hell. Buy maybe I need to get over it and realize that this is simply the world nudging me toward something better.

My lesson for this year? Maybe this is simply the world nudging me toward something better. If I can just stop ranting about it long enough to get out of my own way great things are bound to happen. And if not “great” then at least “marginally better.” Hell, I’ll take a year full of “marginally better” anytime if the alternative is “same old crapshoot.” So, onwards and upwards and older…oldwards…olderwards….whatever, you get the idea. It’s my birthday and I’ll make up words if I want to. So there.

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Letter to my 21-year-old self

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Dear Harriet,

You just turned 21 and are struggling through some of the most difficult months of your life. You are being beaten and raped by your husband on an almost daily basis and, of course, he blames you for his behavior, you see your hurts and your position as your own fault. By winter you are almost completely numb and wondering what on earth there is to live for; you don’t see an out. For the last few months your only place of refuge–the only place you truly feel safe–is the bathtub, but you are no longer safe from yourself there. I know you have been scraping your skin off; your legs and stomach look like gazpacho and your pumice stones are stained with blood.

Stay with me, honey, don’t turn out the lights; it’s almost over. By March you will somehow find the internal strength to make a decision, and by the beginning of the summer you will be living in your own little apartment. That bastard will go back to the Midwest and you will only see him twice more in your lifetime. He will continue to deteriorate, but you will flourish.

***     ***     ***     ***     ***

Melanie recently posted about what she would tell her 22-year-old self, I have been thinking about it for a couple of weeks. The first few years of my 20’s were volatile and looking back I still don’t know how I happened to come out on the other side in one piece. Truth be told, I wasn’t in one piece, I was a mess, held together with bandages and a few long-buried hopes and dreams. It took me a long time to feel like a whole person again, and I often look back to that girl and whisper to her to just keep going, it will get better, she will be okay. Sometimes I actually believe that these quiet encouragements can transcend time and all the laws of psychics, I wonder if  the bloodied, broken girl in the bathtub can somehow hear my whispers, that she recognizes my voice and is calmed, puts down the stone, and is still.

***     ***     ***     ***     ***

Right now so much seems hopeless, hang in there, young Harriet. You will find hope, you will be thrown into chaos, just breathe, you will be okay. You will make it through this, you will thrive, and you will find your happiness.

Love,

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Writing for you, but really, writing for me

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A few weeks ago I saw this writing meme on SoMi Speaks and Kristin’s blog and while it has taken me longer to get this completed than is fashionable when responding to a meme, I liked it enough to persevere anyway.

1. What am I writing or working on?

A few weeks ago I finished an enormous manual for my 8-5 job, it was full of technical information, timelines, sample communications, images, and media releases. I’ve had some good feedback and some constructive critique and am ready to tackle the 2.0 version, to be released in the fall.

On a personal level, recent events in my world and the world at large have prompted me to think about some very difficult questions and have demanded some answers. I don’t know if there has been another time in my life where I so desperately needed clarity. Beginning with the kidnapped young women in Nigeria, the subsequent #yesallwomen explosion and aftermath, and –most recently–a threat of excommunication of a Mormon feminist for her public work to advance equality within the LDS faith (The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints). My heart both hurts and is simultaneously seething with anger. I know that women are not the only underrepresented group, but for a world with a population that is probably more than half female, we surely have a lot of unnecessary obstacles and difficulties and not a proportionate amount of heartache and lack of control.

I am trying to organize my thoughts on these events, and also on feminism in general. It’s not hard for me to write about, I find every topic I explore launches me into 3 or 4 more topics to address. I’ve opened Pandora’s box and the memories and hurts and issues escaping from it demand my attention. I am both energized and overwhelmed. ANd–more than ever–I am grateful for this space where, when they are fermented enough, I can share my thoughts and opinions without the fear that used to loom over every post. I have written nearly 100 pages on my “coming out” as a feminist and the experiences that catalyzed that realization. So, when I have something a little more formed and formatted, you can expect a series on Why I Am A Feminist.

2. How does my work differ from others of it’s genre?

I don’t really know how (or if) my writing differs from others “in it’s genre.” Honestly, I don’t know if I could put myself into any categorical genre. I suppose I write more non-fiction than fiction or creative writing; more edited than not (and only sometimes with spelling or grammar mistakes); I am more word-focused than image-focused (except when I post image-heavy photologues…ahem); more opinions and rantyness than DIY or crafts; more original content than reviews of products. I am not a Mommy blogger, not really a lifestyle blogger, not a fashion blogger, not a food blogger (at least, not here), and I don’t really travel enough to be considered a travel blogger. I’m just a girl with a notebook and a lot of opinions…is that a genre?

3. Why do I write?

Why? I write because I need to get words and thoughts and ideas out of my head and onto a page. I write because it helps me process and is the winding path from a jumbled mess of thoughts to something cohesive–from chaos to concrete opinion. I write because when I don’t my thoughts stop tumbling, begin to crust, and stagnate into a murky pool, suffocating themselves into oblivion. I write because it somehow makes me feel more alive.

4. How does my writing process work?

Part of me wishes I was some kind of uber-sophisticate with a tiny, shiny tablet-laptop that generated silent keystrokes who could sit on the train or in a hip coffee shop with bluesy music in my tiny earbuds, generating blog posts, paragraph after paragraph of perfectly edited prose.

Um, I’m not that person.

I write–in pen–furiously in a college-ruled 1-subject notebook because anything else seems overwhelming. I fill pages with thoughts and scribbles–crossing out entire paragraphs and writing new ones in teeny letters in the margins. I used to be able to open a new blog post and fill it with 1,000 words of…well, to be honest, mostly drivel. I am finding I like the ache in my hand from writing–I like being able to express some of my emotion in my handwriting: neat, well-formed letters for something I am almost certain of; larger ones when I’m forming the thoughts as I write; super slanty jagged ones when I’m angry, abbreviated words and a lot of them missing the last few letters when I am trying to write fast enough to keep up with my brain.

I don’t worry about “messing up” a page, or about anyone else reading what I write, and I no longer worry about composing the perfect blog post that could maybe go viral and make me famous/in-famous for a minute. I just write. Anything I want to publish here I transfer from my notebook to a blog post. I don’t know if that is a “process”…but that’s how it works for me.

What about you? How do you write? Where? Are you a genre-compliant writer? Or are you all over the map?

 

 

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