Song Lyric of the Day:
You’re yes then you’re no / You’re in then you’re out / You’re up then you’re down / You’re wrong when it’s right / It’s black and it’s white
When I started ye olde blog here almost five years ago, I didn’t have a hook, an angle, a gimmick, anything that differentiated my blog from any of the other five trillion blogs (that might be up to six trillion now) out there. I wasn’t a mommy blogger. I wasn’t a Sex and the City wannabe dating her way through a string of eligible men (you know Rich just went “damn straight!”). I wasn’t a tech geek who knew the ins and outs of the latest gadgets. I wasn’t an armchair politician. I wasn’t a fitness blogger. And I’m still not any of those things, which I’m perfectly fine with. The closest categories I think I fall into are that I’m one half of a DINK couple and I’m a pet mommy. Oh, and I’m a dork. A dork who loves photography with all her heart. A dork who loves to read and longs to write more. A dork who loves her TV shows and scary movies. And, most importantly, a dork who enjoys every summer sans pants. (Go on — Google “pantsless pattie” and see what pops up.) But then again, you knew that.
I started blogging to keep our family informed about what was going on in our lives. We were still living in Virginia at the time, and all our family was here in Tennessee. Now it’s the opposite: We live near our families and our friends read my (and Rich’s) blog to keep up with us — what we’re doing, what we’re watching, what we’re reading, what we’re listening to. And somehow in between my sporadic, all-over-the-map posts, I’ve actually managed to attract a handful of readers who’ve subscribed via various blog readers/RSS feeds (howdy, new peeps!). Which is nice. I like to think they think I’m somewhat interesting, in the same way I enjoy reading blogs written by total strangers who I find interesting. As long as no one says they think I’m “fascinating” in that same tone of voice my former therapist used during one of our sessions: “I think you’re just fascinating.” I like to imagine she meant that she thought I was an interesting individual, but deep down I’m pretty sure she meant it in an “I think you should be in a case study” kind of way. Kind of like when Rich looks at me after I’ve tossed one of my non sequitors out into the wind and all he can think to say is, “You’re not right.”
But I digress. Bottom line is, I’m happy that I can’t be easily pigeonholed into a category. Being on the outskirts is where I’ve spent most of my life, and it’s still a great place to be.