These are some posts about me. This should have been up last week but see, I didn’t post this in time to win a $250 Target gift card, so I’m putting it up anyway to fart in the face of my inability to differentiate between 10:30PM EST and 10:30PM PST.
Now I’ll never be able to afford those Mossimo trouser jeans, bead kit, Elnet hairspray, assorted thank you cards, superfluous home storage units, shag rugs, Operation game, bamboo cutting board, the Ped-Egg, cylindrical glass vase, soy candle(s), Swiffer refills, and garden ferns.
Also, since my readership never goes up and the stalwart among you who haven’t ditched me yet will have probably already read these, this is really a dumb post. But it’s symbolic, in a “I refuse to admit that I’m a dumbass way.” (Not that I need any help with that.) (Ask my husband.) (No don’t.) (Fine.) (But thank God he doesn’t have a blog.) (I’d be so lynch-mobbed and straitjacketed by now.)
Finally, and in addition, I think that instead of getting better at my writing craft, I’m sucking more. Has blogging done this to me? I’ve certainly grown to love sentence fragments and starting sentences with “and,” or “but.” But in reading through last year’s posts, I think I wrote better back then. And I certainly didn’t end sentences with “then.”
Now not only has this exercise NOT won me a $250 Target gift card, it’s also caused me to doubt my abilities. And the wind’s not even blowing.
Forget it.
My Favorite San Diego Momma Posts, Listed Too Late to Win Anything, But Published Here Anyway in Homage to My Spending Two Flocking Hours Trolling My Archives:
The One Where I Almost Crapped My Pants
The One Where My Life Flashed Before My Eyes
The One Where I Subconsciously Wonder Why My Husband Hasn’t Left Me Yet
The One Where I Lament My Nose and Beige Blouse
The One Where I Wax Poetic About My Stoner Town
The One That Will Interest CPS The Most
Oh!
And The One Where Oprah Ate All My Wasabi Peas and My Sister Used Her Butt as a Car.
You worked hard. I’m off to read your posts. :)
You are so funny.
I have a severe case of starting sentences with And and But. S.E.V.E.R.E. <–And doing things like that.
I have to get off the computer now. Something about not avoiding intimacy. I learned about it in marriage counseling. I will be back later to read your posts.
Hey don’t worry, I haven’t actually studied your old stuff, picking through it with a fine tooth comb, but I think your writing craft is awesome, clean, flowing and a delight to read.
All I want to do is read these and I can’t because I have a three-year-old who won’t allow it.
I read most of those the first time and they were just as good the second time around. Although I hate to think of you feeling insecure it really is amazing when you write about feeling insecure.
I think one of the most important things a writer needs is a strong voice and you HAVE that voice. The one about the dream where your husband dies is beautifully written but then again there are many more that are as well. You are being to hard on yourself.
Tweeting is killing my writing. In fact, Twitter is like the Buffalo Bill and my blog is like that chick down in the pit with Precious.
And…AND…if this comment eventually sounds familiar, it will be because I twitted it because this is the kind of thing I find awesome.
I”m sorry you missed the entry time — but I’m looking forward to reading the ones of these that I haven’t seen yet. Also? Buy yourself the Ped Egg. It’s soooooo worth it, and it only costs $9.95
what is a ped egg? because i think i need one. and a garden fern. but not a swiffer refill.
Your thought process and penchant for self-doubt are so much like me, it’s scary.
I’ve read most of these, but a review is always nice. STOP doubting yourself so much, you’re an awesome writer and a very, very cool person to know.
((And yes to your question from this past weekend; I really did get in another car accident. I’m really, really sick of messing up cars!))
Dear Kate:
A Ped Egg is a marvelous invention that eats your foot callouses and then pukes them back up in the form of dead skin flakes you can sprinkle into the garbage.
You make that sound so tempting. Mmmmmmm.
All the good stuff was said already. AND I’m just here to say “ditto.” BUT I have to leave now. Or THEN. AND go read your past posts. Did I break enough rules?