HTT - Mocking Edition

This one's easy, and may or may not be my attempt to put off blogging for another day.

Go here first.

Then, come back here.

Now, tell me if that was super funny or super offensive, though I must warn you that if it's the latter we're probably not friends.

'Cause I'm, like, heck yeahs that's hilarious (and true).

Freaky Friday

I spent a ridiculous chunk of nap time yesterday rereading the archives of one of my "love-to-hate-you" bloggers. (I won't name names, but, no, it's not her.)

Rather than just mindlessly read about her purposeful existence, I began to mindlessly take notes, as well. This has to do with a book that I recently read - "Getting Things Done" by David Allen - that focuses on writing EVERYTHING down so that your mind can be free. Hence I now have a list with such random notes as "More fruits and veggies for Miss Dub!" and "Display everything in glass jars." Granted, I will probably continue to supply cookies to my precious offspring when she squeals, "Pweese!" And I will probably put off buying glass jars until I'm sufficiently content with my spring shoe collection - BUT the important thing is that I've clarified what I want to do so that I don't have to obsess over it all day.

But as I was writing all these things down, and feeling intense guilt that I haven't been scouring thrift stores for months to decorate for an upcoming church event, I thought about what it would be like to be another person; to live like the personas created by some of our favorite bloggers, who intentionally or not come across as the most engaging, spontaneous and creative folk in the universe.

So I'm going to try for 24 hours to be this dream person that I've been taking notes about for years. I'm going to push myself to live a little larger and more colorful rather than settling for pretty good. My meals will be prettier. My activities will be grander. And we'll see for once and all if it makes me any happier.

However, I can't do it tomorrow. I'm in charge of decorations for a church event and have just barely started to think about them.

But Friday will be my experiment.

Anyone want to join me?

You make it sound like it's a bad thing

It seems like a lot of people have been bagging on blogging lately.

You know what I'm talking about. There are some people - and I plead the fifth here - who think blogging is a waste of time and/or a tool of the devil. And while there is some truth to the former, I think blogging gets a bad rap as the latter.

I do think that we're all trying to reconcile this new medium. We want to make sure that it's not an addiction like gambling or an inappropriate hobby like square dancing. Also, because I think we feel a certain shame in reading (and relating) to the words of complete strangers.

But I don't think we should feel bad for blogging or reading blogs. Personally, I think blogging is great, mostly because I think it's helped me become a better person.

(I'll pause while you all gasp.)

(Wow! Still gasping?)

So how has blogging made me a better person? Well, I find that blogging has made me more consciously live my life.

For example, I used to buy a lot of plain-colored clothes, but I don't any more. I've realized by looking at pics of other people online that I'm more intrigued by outfits adorned in eclectic patterns. I also like bold jewelry and big bags and colorful flats ... but I didn't know that for sure until I saw those fashions on real people in the comfort of my own home, where I could look twice without feeling embarrassed. Call me a voyeur if you will, but it's really improved my wardrobe. (And upped my daily compliment quota.)

Same goes for my house. Even though I'd really, really like to do so much more with my space - like convert it into a large home - I am trying harder to wait for the perfect pieces rather than settling for generic decor. After all, I read a few different design blogs that have really inspired me to decorate my home with accents of my personality. Of course, this is also the reason we've been without an ottoman for more than a year. I just can't find the right one!

But most importantly, I find myself savoring more moments in life. When I do something fun with my family, I stop and take in the experience even more than usual so that I can capture it
in print. I notice the little things that are touching or funny or even embarrassing. I relive the moment even as I'm in it because I see it through all of your eyes, too.

In the end, blogs are like a personalized magazine. We all have our favorite columnist, our interior design section, our personal improvement writer and our favorite fashion spreads. But we don't have to pay to subscribe, and we get a new edition every day.

It's great.

Of course the downsides are having nothing to write, feeling pressure to write and feeling overwhelmed by all the good blogs out there.

But no one is perfect. Not even Design Mom ... though she is eerily close.

So in honor of this new hobby, which is no different (or better or worse) than any other pastime, like scrapbooking or skiing, share with me your personal blog-zine.

What would be the name of your personalized publication? And what blogs would we find in your table of contents?

Reader roll call ... and clam dip?

A few of you (including Laurel) inquired about who comments on this bad blog.

You asked things like,
"Who are these people?"
"How you know them?"
"Who have you met in person?"
"Why do you smell like cabbage?"

And while I'm sure you've figured out that most are friends and family (or friend of friends and family), there are quite a few of you who I don't really know.

So why don't you all save my digits today and type up a short blurb on your connection to me, either in the real world or the virtual realm. If the latter, let us know how you stumbled on this here piece of madness. (My apologies by the way!)

Call it an early Christmas present for ol' M&M.

And, yes, all you lurkers, I at least expect you to say, "Hi!" I mean, you know that I didn't shower yesterday - By the way, I didn't shower yesterday - so I'd say you owe me a little personal information about yourselves.

It's going to be a regular party here today!

So who brought the clam dip?

simply family

As if you weren't reading enough blogs by my family, another member has joined the Blogger ranks. (For enquiring minds, this female member of the family gave birth to me, forever making her world a louder place.)

You can find her here at simplehappy home.

Unlike this here blog, hers has a definite theme - home design, quilting and simple living. Likewise, my sis' blog is dedicated to forms of transportation, like Vespas and one famous VW.

Apparently I'm the Jerry Seinfeld blogger in my family because my blog is about nothing, except maybe Target. And we all know they aren't going to pay me for my endorsements.

However, we all share a common love of run-on sentences and sarcasm. So apparently I wasn't switched at birth, thus debunking my childhood theory that I am a long-lost member of an exotic island's royal family - preferably, a really, really rich royal family, not so much a livestock-currency, tribal royal family.

(See what I mean about run-on sentences?)

Now, if we could only get Mrs. Gee to blog, if only to see adorable photos of Lil' Gee on a daily basis. Then again, if she gets a website, it better be for her fabulous cards, new business or culinary skillz. Like this recipe:

Caribbean Chicken and Black Bean Salad
Spicy Lime dressing (below)
2 c. cubed, cooked chicken
¼ c. chopped fresh cilantro
1 large tomato, chopped (1 cup)
1 medium avocado, chopped
1 small yellow squash, chopped
1 can (15 oz.) black beans, rinsed and drained
Leaf lettuce

* Make Spicy Lime dressing
* Toss remaining ingredients except lettuce in large bowl. Pour dressing over salad; toss. Serve on lettuce.

Spicy Lime Dressing
¼ c. lime juice

¼ t. ground cumin

¼ t. salt

½ t. chili powder
2 T. olive oil

1 T. honey

2 to 3 drops red pepper sauce

* Shake all ingredients in tightly covered container.

Everything I need to know I learned from blogging

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In my 19 months as a blogger, I’ve learned a few things. Like, don’t get caught up in a world of proper pseudonyms because you most likely have more than one friend whose name would become Mrs. Pea. (Leaving you no choice but to refer to the other one as Mrs. Pee, a much more unfortunate moniker.)

Other things I’ve learned:

* Sometimes, like yesterday, it’s really, really nice to have a network of well-wishing and advice-doling friends and almost strangers on your side. It’s nice to know that someone who doesn’t have to be nice to you or who isn’t related to you thinks you’re normal - and sometimes funny. It’s often the motivation to finally let Miss Dub cry it out a bit without worrying about her physical and emotional safety. (For the record, I’m doing it as I type. Thank goodness for this distraction because I’m on the verge of crying it out myself.)

* Other times, it’s really, really scary to put your thoughts, emotions and opinions online for public perusal. Debate is fun, but being berated, mocked or belittled by some anonymous commentor can be deflating. Even worse if it’s between readers because it makes me look complicit. It’s a slippery slope to start deleting comments, though I’ve done it for sure. And don’t get me started about comment spam. Is that really your best marketing plan?

* Watch what you say. Sometimes what sounds innocent to you can totally offend someone you love. Then again, it can be constraining to try and please everyone you vaguely know. (And there’s just something weird about having to censor yourself on your own blog.) The best approach is a little balance – a little restraint here or a little clarification there. And when you still draw ire, apologize. Blogs are not worth burning bridges.

* You never know what will strike a chord. Often my most random musings get the most comments, while what I consider to be really hot topics draw a lukewarm response. People like me when I’m funny, people like me when I’m being a mom, but mostly you like it when I’m being honest. And that’s when my blog serves as therapy so we all win.

* Bloggers aren’t as magical as they appear online. It’s the ol’ online dating scheme – you can self-edit to the point of perfection. Granted, there is a disproportionate amount of creative bloggers than people since it serves as a free artistic outlet. So you’ll find more painters, sewers, writers and crafters per capita. However, that painter only showcases his best works. That sewer failed to show you her last project that turned out terrible. Et cetera. But everyone is human. Everyone leaves the dishes dirty sometimes. Everyone doesn’t look that good in every photo. And if someone seems too good to be true, they’re probably not sharing their whole self … and that’s OK. Blogs can make us feel good because we share the person we want to be, not necessarily who we really are. And if we inspire someone else in the process, even better.

* HTML is confusing, but you can figure it out. Sort of. And sort of is usually good enough for us small-time bloggers.

* Two great sources for royalty-free images are Getty Images and Rubberball. And not just because the latter features BYU’s own Asian Eddie in every other pic. Also, a good way to give credit is to link the actual photo to the site. Doesn't detract from the blog content, but gives credit where credit is due.

* Blogger will shut down on you when you most need it. Count on it.

* It’s much easier to write in a blog than in your journal because someone actually reads it. Plus, it’s a much better balanced view of yourself because it's not just a travelogue or personal history – it has little snippets of your current personality, activites and photos; something posterity can read and say, “So that was my Great Grammie Dub.” Instead of, “Wow, her life sucked.”

Wait, what’s that sound? Is Miss Dub all cried out? Have we made it through the first magical crying it out session? Is there hope? Did it only take 25 minutes? And while it felt like an hour, blogging through her tears kept it from seeming like an eternity.

Because while blogging can be a love/hate relationship – pressure to post, nothing to say, spending way too much time on the computer – it can also be an amazing outlet, a great way to meet other people in your same shoes (preferably cute flats) and something to do when your baby is clinging to her crib for dear life.

What have you learned from blogging?

Big news, little bike

My sister recently came out of the closet.

No, not that closet.

This is a closet filled with tight leather, aviator sunglasses, studded belts and black gloves.

OK, maybe not that closet, either.

But if there's a closet filled with scarves, cute capris, and a Vespa - which is basically the Schwinn cruiser of motorized bicycles - then she just came out of it. (To our parents, though she's been openly Vespa-ed for a few weeks now to many of us. But since I had to respect her unnatural fear of them, I waited to share the big news rather than risk exposing her to my dearest Mommie.)

Oh yeah, and there's a blog in that closet. And it's really funny.




So if you want to read about my sister's adventures in Vespaland, go here. Frequently.

I must admit that I'm a bit reluctant to direct you her way as she was doled out more wit and writing talent than I got at birth. (Hey, she's the first - by the time I was born only diluted genetics were available.)

Also, she has a life and a Vespa, which are two things I'm working on. (I'm really not. Life and bikes scare me.)

But who am I to deny you the pleasure of reading humorous tales of my sister's Vespa trips, attempts to join/create a biker gang and plea for vanity plate suggestions?

Some things you just have to share.

Enjoy!

Swap sisters

Meet Ali.

Ali is my swap sister/friend/fellow blogger/soul-writer and all other adjectives that denote things pleasant, coincidental and divine.

Yes, against my better judgment I signed up for Kelly's fabulous "My Three Favorite Things" swap. I don't mean that negatively - I've been coveting swaps for some time now. It's just that I know I'm not nearly as crafty, clever or downright punctual as most bloggettes out there. So I was really scared by the prospect of having to directly swap gifts with someone for fear that her favorite things would be so much more favored than mine.

Thankfully, my gift hasn't arrived quite yet in the mail, though I'll take pics as soon as it does. At which time, I'm sure to wish I was as brilliant as Ali. Except I already know she is because in my attempt to research my swap sister, I ended up addicted to Ali's blogs found here and here. The latter almost makes me want to move back to Utah. Almost. (Chuck-a-rama scares me, people!)

I'm pretty confident you're already reading her stuff. If not, grab a snack and get started.

And to find out the contents of my paper packages tied up in string - how could I resist when sending a few of my favorite things - click here.

Meanwhile, I'll be checking my mail.

Jure ma far

You know how you can get sucked into the link vortex, where you hop from one blog link to the next in hopes of finding a long-lost friend? Though you usually just end up finding someone you kinda knew at college around the 12th link. You’re more likely to connect yourself to Kevin Bacon before you actually rekindle a friendship, though it does happen on occasion.

Well, I discovered this blog the other day whilst blinking. And while I have never met the author, I couldn’t help but read EVERY SINGLE post in lieu of lesser things like being productive. Mostly because it’s hilarious, but also because I can relate to living the vida loca in Central America, having done a stint in El Salvador myself. Her posts reminded me of the different traditions, customs and general hilarity of life down there.

Which made me think of how young kids would always come up to me asking for translations of English words they’d heard. Most are unprintable but involve four letters including an F. So of course I said those words meant things like, “I’m an idiot,” or, “I’m ugly,” in hopes that they would stop chanting them at me in the streets. Though all obscenities or random English words were followed by “baby,” as in, “Microwave, baby!” Or, “Bye-bye, baby.” So I guess that made it all better, even though I hate being called baby almost as much as I loathe being called “honey” by store clerks, hairdressers and anyone under 60.

However, sometimes it took some serious listening to even understand the English words they wanted me to translate. A common one was, “Jure ma far.” For weeks I didn’t know what the heck they were talking about … until I woke up to someone blasting the Backstreet Boys chanting, “You are my fire.” But somehow “Tu eres mi fuego,” just conjured up images of pyromaniac boyfriends.

Speaking of pyros, another common translation request was, “Butaf Peej Pell.” Which after some time in El Salvador, and better understanding of the Salvadoran love for both WWF and Marilyn Manson, I realized the phrase was from the latter’s “Beautiful People” tune.

But those random memories don’t compare to the time I saw a guy with a machete through his arm, or the 1,003 sketchy remedies people insisted I try for their scientifically-proven properties. Or taking my life into my hands driving a 23-passenger minivan missing a third gear.

Because I don’t have time right now to regale you with all my humorous anecdotes. I’m too busy doing really important stuff like clicking on any and all links. Oh, and simultaneously admiring and cursing Miss Dub’s new crawling ways.

Bye-bye, baby!

Blogs, breaks and babies

My apologies this fine Monday.

I spent the morning doing a little redesign over here.



Do check it out and let me know what you think.



Also, pray that my friend and her lil' man make it home in time for her shower this weekend.


(I have a funny feeling she'll make it!)



Did I mention that I'm going out of town for a fortnight?



I may take a blogger break to coincide.


I mean, my posts have been odd as of late.


Perhaps some time off would rejuvenate my noggin'.



Good or bad idea?

Extra, extra

If you haven't been checking out this blog as of late, you must go today.

Its blogstress has started a weekly feature ("Monday Meals") boasting a cooking tip and recipe.

And did I mention she includes a printable recipe card? And it's pretty?

Yes, I actually know people this talented. And delicious.

Go, now!

What the HTML?

A lot of people have been asking me to spill my secrets about blog design.

The only problem is that I don’t have any.

I don’t speak HTML, much less write it. I don’t even know how to use Photoshop. (Though I played around with Illustrator for about 10 minutes until I created my new header, which a child could make.)

But I do know how to read. And I do know how to Google. And those two things can be a lethal design weapon.

Basically, I click on the “Edit HTML” tab in my Blogger dashboard.

Then, I read.

After a while, you start to figure things out. Each section is divided. If it says “Body”, it’s referring to the background. If it says “Header description,” it’s referring to the line where you give a little extra info about your blog. Everything underneath it is in relation to that section – margins, text size, color. (Color is anything that looks like this: #171717. This site and this site can help you find the code for more colors than those offered by Blogger. You can either insert them into the HTML or in the “Page Elements” tab of new Blogger.)

You can play around with all of these – just hit “preview” first to make sure it looks right before you publish your changes. Also, saving a copy of your template is a smart idea. Just copy and paste it into a Word document. Personally, I have a faux blog I use to test out my templates before I make the changes on this one. Also an option.

If you want to, say, add a margin to something but don’t see a place to do that, copy and paste similar HTML from other parts of your layout. Usually, this works. In fact, many of the changes I make come from seeing similar code in other parts of my template and duplicating it other places. (For example, I found some code that referenced a border and copy and pasted the following - border-bottom:1px solid #171717; - into my date header section so that I could get a line between the date and post titles.)

None of this helpful I’m sure – and there are way more detailed instructions you can find here, here and here. But I will try to get more specific about my patterned backgrounds, which seem to be what people really want.

To change my plain background to a pattern, I have to do the following:

1. Find a background that can tile – this means you must find an image where the edges will blend together. To do that, there must either be blank space on all sides of the image or the top and bottom of the image must connect together. This probably doesn’t make sense, but you’ll see what I mean if you pick the wrong one – it will be all choppy and disconnected. There’s a way you can make any image into a web tile, but, again, I’m not the person to talk to about that. (You can find some good web tiles here and here. I got creative this time and cropped the image of a book of scrapbook rub-ons to make it work.)

2. Save the image to your computer and then upload to an online photo account, like flickr or photobucket. This will create a URL address for the image that you can use in your layout.

3. Locate the place in your HTML template that says "body." (It should be towards the top.) Underneath that, locate the line that starts with “background.” Depending on your template it may already have a link to a Blogger URL with an image. Whatever it is, take out the line that starts with “background” and insert the following:
background:url(http://photobucketorflkrurl.jpg);
Except insert the URL link to your image, which you can copy and paste from the image hosting site you selected.

4. "Preview" the template to make sure it looks good.

5. For extra credit, you can make a label cloud like the one I have. Find actually helpful instructions here. (Or to hide your Blogger navbar, go here.)

No matter your level of tech-savvyness, if you play around enough, you’ll figure it out. I promise. (It took me a few hours initially to figure it all out.)

And never, never ask yourself again why I don’t blog about topics like web design. Because, as boring as my posts about marriage and Miss Dub may be, this one takes the cake.

Oooh, I have a great recipe for a low-fat German chocolate cake. Maybe I’ll post it tomorrow.

Yeah, that feels better.

Blog to Blog

Another friend has joined our ranks and you can find her here.

Although, you’re probably thinking what I sometimes think, “Another blog to read?”

(In this case, yes! You must!)

It’s not that I’m not grateful for the bounty of brilliant blogs out there. It’s downright amazing that there are so many talented writers out there, bringing us a daily dose of diatribe. (Or humorous takes on doing the laundry as the case may be.)

I mean, where were these writers before the blogosphere? Did they all keep copious journals or freelance for their local Pennysaver? Because I find it hard to believe that all these bloggers were writers by profession. And even harder to believe that they weren’t. (What? It makes sense to me.)

Thanks to random links, blog rolls and sheer serendity, I’ve stumbled upon some fabulous blogs, which I read daily. And by some, I mean, like, a lot. So many that sometimes I feel a little obsessed. Sometimes I feel a little guilty. I mean, it’s one thing to read a newspaper filled with current events and drizzle of editorials. But what if that newspaper was filled with witty columns, all totally biased and hilarious and engaging? And what if that newspaper was a thick Sunday edition every day of the week?

Is that wrong? Is that a waste of time? Is it even healthy to know that Pioneer Woman spent a day at the farm, or that Cjane ate tofu, or that Jordan woke up a little late?

Did I mention I don’t know these people? Because I’ve never met one of them. But through their writings, I feel like we’re friends. Just like some of you feel like we’z tight, even though you don’t know whether I have all my digits in tact. (FYE: I don’t, but we can still be friends.)

But my quandary doesn’t stop there. Every day it seems I stumble across a new link to a new blog. Some are stellar, some are scary; many are, frankly, quite boring. But the fact that they exist unnerves me a little. I hate thinking that the perfect blog is out there, waiting to be discovered. I hate knowing that every day someone new is composing a dazzling post that I may never read. I want to find them. I want to read them.

But I also want to do my laundry. And I don’t want to find myself mentally dictating a post about it while I do. (“What is it with socks? Is there some sort of alternate universe that is funding an intergalactic war through solar sock power?”)

Sometimes I want to rename the word blog because I get sick of using it. (And Mr. Dub likely gets sick of hearing it.) Sometimes I just want them to all go away. Sometimes I want them to all suck.

But they don’t, so I keep reading.

What about you?

(And on that topic, do you think blogs are a mere trend or here to stay?)

Rainy day recess

I’m a total hypocrite.

(Like you didn’t already know that.)

But I’m a total hypocrite right now because yesterday I pledged you all to go outside, dismiss your technological urges and enjoy spring! Unfortunately, it poured here, which forced me to stay cozy inside, which just happens to be where my computer is and … well, let’s just say I checked my email several times, perused some blogs and read the latest scoop on “The Office.” (Could Jan be preggers?)

So sue me! (No, really, don’t. I can’t afford a lawyer, and I’m related to two.)

But in all my shouldn’t-be-on-the-computer-but-I-am-so-what’s-this-blog I came across several blogs and sites that belong to college acquaintances … which led me to reminisce about my college days, which were so unbelievably great.

Some random bits about my coed experienced at The BYU:
* My sophomore year I lived in a house with 10 other girls. A house where a group of guys once walked in unannounced, starting break dancing and promptly left. Also, a house where I once caught a guy sneaking through our kitchen window to steal a cake, and I didn’t do anything about it.
* I never, ever paid to go to a Provo party through various sneaky maneuvers. I mean, you’re seriously charging people money to dance in your house for 30 minutes? However, I did throw several parties where we charged people to attend. (See first line of post for clarification.)
* In a bizarre sidewalk chalk incident, I convinced the school’s newspaper that I was an intern for MTV coordinating an MTV Spring Break special at BYU. (Which is funny because BYU doesn’t have a spring break nor believe in most spring break activities.)
* Later, I worked as a helper for MTV and helped publicized and oversee their open auditions for “The Real World.” You know Julie, the Mormon girl on all these “Real World/Road Rules” excuse-to-wear-a-bathing-suit-24/7 challenges? Yeah, you can thank me for that.
* Later, I worked as the editorialist for the school’s newspaper.
* Also, I met and married the man of my dreams.
* Did I mention that my roommates and I liked to don cowboy hats and sit in a lukewarm Jacuzzi in the springtime? (As I always instituted a faux BYU spring break regardless of the weather or official school policy.)
* And then there was that time that I just up and went to Hawaii for 10 days with no plans and little money. (Again, it was “spring break.”)

Well, let’s just say that my memories are nothing compared to the costume-wearing, bizarrely themed, uber-cool antics of some of these acquaintances. Yes, the single ones are still partying and pranking and hooking up with each other. And many of the married ones are still in bands and wearing hip clothes in their minimalist homes.

And I could easily be jealous of their lives and lifestyles. But I’m not … because I’m happier where I am.

I’m happier being a mom to my favorite little person than having all the cool clothes in the world. I’m happier being a wife to my best friend than attending all the robot and pirate-themed parties out there. I’m happier making rice cereal than making it big. I’m happier being married than I was single, even though I’m fatter and duller. I’m happier being me today. And I really liked the past.

And I’m happy that they’re all presumably happier, too. (Although my baby is the cutest.)

The only catch is I’m a hypocrite.

But everything can’t be perfect, right?