Seriously.
I can hardly stand all the shenanigans and I would straight up opt out (not that I would ever qualify) if I was invited to compete. It’s like a twisted theme party; a circus. Gives me shivers.
First of all, people identify as “bloggers”.
Dude, I know I’m old fashioned but to the best of my knowledge blogging is yet to be recognized as a career path. I mean, really. Write all you want, write on a blog site, get paid for it. That’s all fine and well. It’s more than that; it’s pretty darn fabulous. But to be (or not to be) a blogger? Over.the.top.
Second, we gotta talk about the link ups, the contests, the #ff.
It’s a twisty game and reeks of popularity politics (and they be stankin’). I guess I could be a good sport about it and play, but if you wanna roll in the sandbox with me, you should be warned: I’ll win. I can be queen if I wanna be. But, newsflash: I don’t care.
Thirdly, YOUR NUMBERS DON’T IMPRESS ME.
Twitter? Facebook? Instagram? Google +? Tumblr? Pinterest for gawd sakes? Whatever. I’m glad that what you’re doing is being noticed but the value of your product cannot be measured by how many people show virtual interest (sorry, it’s true).
In my life, there are few numbers that I actually care about. Here are the ones that matter to me:
I have:
- 2 guiding and generous parents;
- 1 hilarious and handsome brother;
- 1 sent-from-above spouse;
- 1 connected and satisfied marriage;
- 2 beautiful and becoming children;
- 1 awesome and challenging profession;
- exactly 12 passionate and dynamic friends (okay fine, I play with numbers sometimes too);
- and 767 things on my (current) to-do list.
That’s the stuff that makes up my world; my day.
I measure my success if my parents are proud of me. If my brother looks up to me. If my husband wants to hang out with me. If my marriage is a testament to the love in me. If my kids feel secure, sound, and supported in their relationship with me. If my profession is inspired by me. If my friends would still choose me. If my to-list doesn’t eat me (whole).
Don’t get me wrong. I love writing, I love reading what others have written, and I am borderline obsessed with blogs.
But I don’t like blog land. Not one bit.
So, please, leave me out of it. Costume parties just ain’t my style.