(Gratuitous photos from aforementioned blogs.)
If I'm feeling fat, poorly groomed, unemployed and my house is dirty, I turn to these online "friends" but they are not a salve for my soul; no, they make me feel even worse. They taunt my inadequacies and, like a good codependent, I allow them to. I listen to their tales about the outfits they wore and the parties they went to and the jobs they love and their fab husbands/boyfriends/friends. They appear to be naturally rich and thin. I hate them. And I keep going back for more.
Tiny handful of readers, doesn't my mess of a life make yours seem really good in comparison? Is that not what other people want? Maybe I have the personal blog all wrong. It's not our real lives, it's the lives we aspire to, the ones the photo stylists have already gussied up with fresh flowers and place settings. The dirty socks and cellulite are hidden. I'm afraid the personal blog may go the way of the fashion and home design magazines -- all cheerleader/jock glossy perfection. Frankly, I'm a little disappointed in myself that I lap it up, wishing and wanting something that probably doesn't even exist.
On a super, happy blogger note, I have a phone interview tomorrow!!! OMG! The Universe must have felt sorry for me after that last rant. (Must stop Eileen from spewing any more vitriol publicly. Throw her a bone, fer gawd's sake.)
ma cherie! We need to get you to another part of the blogosphere! Psyched about your phone interview, let me know how it goes.
ReplyDeleteSuggestions? The interview. She said she'd set up the next, real one in 24 hours and it's been 12...
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