Is It Cheating If I Blog About My Blog?
Totally phoning it in on this one. But I’m intrigued. I’m aware of the fact that when I put up a new post, my hits increase for a day or two. (Thank you to all the other quads-n-more families that put me on their blogroll!) So, I was surprised to see my page views jump dramatically just two days ago. I had not put up anything new (damn that YoVille), so what could be bringing people here? When I looked at my stats, the majority of hits came from people searching on “Ghandi” or “farmers.” (I’m cerebral AND practical, y’all! And totally down with peaceful crop rotation.) But I had two hits from people searching on “dirty farmer.” Um, I’m disturbed. I’m picturing some dominatrix spanking a guy in overalls. (Crap, wonder how many hits that sentence is gonna net me?) As if I wasn’t skeeved enough, today I get a junk mail in my inbox telling me to Google Positions! (OK, so maybe that was the type of job they were hiring for, but I was in a fragile state of mind, people.)
I want to make this clear: this blog is not about farmers doing naughty things to each other. It’s about kids and lollipops and rainbows. And puppies. ‘Cause what’s more innocent and gentle than a puppy? Nothing, that’s what. Oh, and this blog is often about alcoholic beverages. And occasionally, it’s about cats with captions:
There. No more dirty searches winding up here, OK?
Facebook is Rotting My Brain
So my mom hinted that I hadn’t posted in a while. I know, I know. I’ve got four or five drafts started but just haven’t felt the “juice” to get them ready to publish. BabyGirl has suddenly started having sleep problems. Apparently, this isn’t uncommon in the toddler years. One day she was a perfect angel about bedtime, climbing in bed, kissing us, saying, “G’night!” and then going to sleep without a peep. The next day, she refuses to be left alone in her bed, wakes up at all hours crying, and, when I check on her, pleads, “Mama, yay down!” (For those of you not fluent in two year old, that’s “lay down.”) So I either get in bed with her, take her to bed with me, or, when I have a molecule of self-discipline, lay on the floor next to her door until she falls back asleep. Can’t imagine why I’m sleep deprived.
I also have been keeping up with my Curves routine. (I kid you not, the lady next to me yesterday was wearing jeans, a sweater vest, and Birkenstocks. Is it any wonder Curves has a reputation for catering to old ladies?!) Not to brag (OK, maybe a little), but I’m down 16 pounds and 13 inches. When I see results, I start getting very competitive with myself to see just how far I can go. About 7 more pounds and I can start drinking on school nights again. Yay! I’m sure my kids will be relieved.
But my biggest excuse for not spending as much time blogging is the time-sucking void that is Facebook. Don’t get me wrong; I love reconnecting with old friends and getting to peek into the lives of people I don’t talk to regularly. I love that my friends can see what I’m up to without me sending out dozens of emails. But, oy, the time I spend accepting (or, more often, ignoring) invitations for Special Irish Gifts, or Easter Eggs Hidden in Your Profile, or What Car Are You?, or What Does Your Name Mean?, or . . .you get the picture. There are a few that I think are entertaining. Just this week I took the quiz “Which 80’s Band Are You?” The result? Boston–I rock just as much as I roll, baby. Also, “What Weapon Are You?” I’m an MP5SD, a sexy sub-machine gun used by special forces all over the world. Damn straight!
But I could just kill The Queen for getting me started with this YoVille thing. It’s a virtual world where you earn money at work, decorate your apartment, visit your friends, and can play games with other YoVillians. Um, I don’t have enough time to do that in REAL LIFE.
I used to mock people who were so into online virtual worlds. (Not Webkinz. That’s totally different. So shut up.) So why am I worrying about how many people I have on my “crew” and trying to save up my wages to buy a house? Seriously? This is what I’m choosing to spend my time on?
And I don’t even like IM’ing, which is how you communicate when your friends are around. Don’t get me started on people who aren’t my friends. I am so afraid of friending a perv that I run in the opposite direction whenever someone challenges me to a game of Tic Tac Toe. So, basically, I’ve created a character in my online virtual universe who has an anxiety disorder about strangers and therefore spends most of her time as a shut in. Sounds fun, doesn’t it?
My plan is to limit my time on Facebook to only once or twice a day to check on messages from friends and such. Which I will do . . .once I’ve earned enough wages to buy that little two-story Cape Cod on YoStreet I’ve had my eye on. Come visit me if you’re in the ‘Ville!
Some of my Yo’Peeps.
(The one on the left would be thrilled to know her avatar shows up taller than the one on the right. She’s usually the fun-sized one.)
