I was just talking with a friend about the purpose of reading blogs. She’s a devoted reader of mine and, apparently, I’m the only blogger she reads. She was saying that unless she’s friends with or related to the blog writer, she’s probably not going to spend her time reading their personal stories. I can totally respect that some people have to know the blogger/writer to want to read about their embarrassing encounter with the Porta Potty or their personal preference when it comes to stand mixers.
I totally get that.
I’m pretty much the opposite of my friend when it comes to online reading preferences.
I love reading about someone’s awesome vacation to some exotic locale or reading about how they make a mean enchilada casserole with a recipe they got from their crazy Aunt Marge.
Maybe that’s totally weird?
Maybe I’m entirely too interested in complete strangers’ fun family stories or how they studied abroad in Ireland (read about one of my favorite blogger’s experiences doing just that here)?
Whatever it may be, I can definitively say that I’m a devoted blog reader, and I appreciate my committed readers more than words can express.
Throughout the last two years and some odd months, I’ve connected with, gotten to know, and enjoyed reading so many bloggers.
I love you all. I truly do. We are a tribe, and I’m so fortunate to be a part of it.
Just like my friend, however, I have some requirements that must be met in order for me to spend so much of my time reading blogs.
These are some of them:
1. You’re a real person who responds to comments and engages with your readers. If you never respond to comments, or it takes you far too long to respond, and I’ve long since forgotten about your post, I will grow weary of dedicating time to read and comment.
2. Posts are well-written and purposeful. We all make grammatical errors (like that one time I made a massive one in the title of a post *cringe*), but if the mistakes take away from the message, this teacher can’t even.
3. The topic is one in which I can relate to in some way, shape, or form. This is a pretty straightforward one. If you write about something I can hardly come up with a comment for, then your topic is best left to those who can. There’s nothing wrong with that. I write about back fat, rogue chin hairs, and how I have a tendency to inhale baked goods. Those topics aren’t for everyone, either.
And, that’s it, really. If you respond to comments I spend time crafting, you don’t have grammatical errors every line, and your posts keep me wanting more, I’m hooked.
So, I’m curious-what are your blog reading preferences and requirements? Let me know in the comments.
Tag: opinion
Sunday Survey
I’m a total noob. I can’t figure out how to insert a survey into a blog post. I wanted to survey all of you beautiful people on the topic of home buying, but I can’t follow simple directions. Instead of having a handy, easy to use, fun to participate in survey, I’m just going to write a few questions that I’m hoping ya’ll could answer. Thanks in advance!
- Condos? Yay or nay? Pros? Cons?
- Any note-worthy personal experiences with living in a condo?
- Would you buy when home prices are high in order to take advantage of a $10,000 home grant?
- How important was/is location to you?
- How dumb is it to be scared of being stuck with a house that’s haunted? Is this a legit fear?
- What if I’m stuck with terrible neighbors?
- How terrible is being house poor?
- HELP
I have some real (and some made up) fears about buying a home. Permanence scares the ever-loving shit out of me. Despite feeling trepidatious and nervous-poopy, I need to get some perspective from unbiased home owners. Lay it all on me-horror stories and all.
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Go 'F' Me?
Happy Hump Day (Wednesday, you sickos). I got some good news yesterday. I guess I won’t muck about dragging out the preamble, so, guess what? I was just awarded Qualified Teacher Status (QTS) in England. This means I am qualified to teach in maintained and non-maintained schools across England. I was also made exempt to serve the statutory induction period. To my American readers, this means that I do not have to go through the probationary period upon landing a job.
Basically, I was freaking excited yesterday, and today I am feeling overwhelmed. This status means nothing more than I am qualified to apply for a teaching job. I still have to apply and then there is the visa issue. The sell-my-car-and-possessions issue. The seriously-am-I-considering-leaving-my-amazing-school?-issue. The this-will-be-expensive-as-crap-issue. The can-I-really-move-abroad-by-myself?-issue.
This is big.
Also, this may not even happen until next year. A whole year. The thing with teaching is that once you commit to teaching a year at a school, and you meet your class, you can’t exactly just up and leave. There are children to consider. Consistency. Doing what is right. So, if this doesn’t happen for this school year, I will have to wait an entire school year to try to make it happen again.
Le sigh.
In my excitement, I made a Go Fund Me page. I know. To some, this may seem in poor taste. Asking for money is tacky and I am the first one to think, “Come again?” when I see bloggers with the “Go Fund Me” link on their page, so readers can fund their writing. We all would like to be paid for our writing, but that doesn’t mean that we should. Or does it? I am beginning to understand why people ask for donations. Why the hell not?
Stupid people ask for the dumbest shit on Go Fund Me. I would LOVE for someone to pay off all of my irresponsible debt, but that doesn’t mean that anyone should. I would LOVE a pair of Louboutins (actually, no, I wouldn’t. I look like an idiot walking in heels and my feet are in agony after 5 minutes, but you get the point), but people asking for money for expensive heels should maybe just get a freaking job (then they will, maybe, realize that they can pay their rent instead).
However, I am asking for donations to fund my furthering career of teaching the future. I think that is a much more reasonable request than, say, needing money for pizza (although, needing pizza is a very real struggle).
I will make this happen regardless if I get a single donation or not. If I get a donation, I will feel like the luckiest, happiest girl in the world. I will also forever be grateful to whoever feels the need to help support my venture with their money.
With that, I will end with a picture of my editor/life coach/friend’s “Grandma Jeans”. In helping to assure me that I made the right decision with the Go Fund Me, she sent me a picture of her sexy jeans. She said, “Some would call these ‘in poor taste’, but until someone wants to take me on a shopping spree, I am rocking these jeans”. Or, something like that.
gofund.me/U-K-orBust
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Testing the Waters-"Body Positivity"
Methinks I’ve made it pretty clear that I’m not skinny. I mean, my body size is in the name of my blog. If you’re shocked right now, you have not read one thing I’ve written. If you have read at least a few of my blog posts, you know I specialize in self-deprecation (no, not defecation-that’s an entirely different animal). I love making fun of myself. Calling myself names and poking fun at my body is how I take life not so seriously. No one wants to be the fat girl who cries about being fat. No.
There are days I hate my body, days when I find 6,452 things wrong with my appearance. Some days, I check myself out in the mirror and say, “You look pretty alright. Alright, alright”. If I spent as much time as I do on worrying about when my next meal will be, on how I look, I would be a very miserable person. I look to my other strengths when my jeans fit a little too tight, or my new bra gives me back boobs. There has to be more to this life than how I look. If I cared too much about my appearance, I would be one sad person, because I will definitely never be mistaken for Angelina Jolie.
And that’s OK. We can’t all have huge breasts, a tiny waist, and Brad Pitt. Some of us look decent in black yoga pants and have even teeth. It isn’t fair, but who ever promised it would be?
Now that I’ve stated my own personal attempt at “body positivity”, I have to give my opinion on the “Body Positive” movement.
Wait for it…
I effing hate it. I’m so over it. It’s all about looks and that is not what is most important in life. On the other side, it is nice to feel good about yourself, but at what cost?
I want to lose weight because I don’t feel healthy, my feet hurt, and yes, I want to look good naked. So, I don’t really appreciate Tess Holliday and all those other “Body Positive” representatives telling me, “It’s OK you’re fat. Don’t change who you are. Fat is beautiful”. No *holding up stop sign*.
Please do not give me one more reason to not put down the cupcake and get off my ass. Do not.
How many women really feel beautiful having unwanted fat? Come the fuck on. That’s not to say someone who is fat isn’t beautiful, or lacks worth because they don’t fit into society’s cookie cutter beauty terms.
No.
I’m not saying I am not worthy or not beautiful. What I am saying is I don’t feel beautiful when I can’t find tights for a costume, because “one size fits all” fits up to a size 8. No. And finding tights in the “fat section” doesn’t make me feel any better either.
Thus, I’m practicing yoga and trying to be a healthier, more beautiful me.
I have to share a comment on a post that Tess Holliday shared (Her social media posts are becoming more and more negative. Soon, she will just be another hater). This young man was positively attacked for his comment. He was not rude, he was not “fat shaming”, nor was he unreasonable. The pack of wolves who tore him down were vicious. The same women who don’t like people judging them. The same women who don’t like being bullied.
The above responses were some of the kinder ones.
Just take a moment and let this marinate.
I’m testing the waters with my opinion on this matter. I don’t want to scare away all of the beautiful people who read my blog, because this is a heated topic, and my opinion is the unpopular one. At the same time, I don’t want to stifle my desire to write about what I’m passionate about.
So, I’ll just leave it at that, for now. Like just one bite of a cupcake, I’m leaving you with annoyance, dissatisfaction, and wanting.
