My blog is blooming |

My blog is blooming

Dear Editor:I stood in front of the third-grade classroom and gave my oral presentation on birds and their songs. I was so proud of my report and my carefully recorded chirps from the birds singing outside my bedroom window. All was fine until I finished, then the black veil of dots appeared in front of my eyes and the lights went out. When I was little my father would laugh at my comedy shows at the dinner table and remark that he was raising another Sarah Bernhardt. The seed was planted, but remained dormant for approximately 30 years. It was one thing to be able to make friends and family laugh but another to put myself in a place of peril on the stage. I decided that writing was a much safer place. People could read my pieces and laugh, or not, and I could remain blissfully ignorant of their reactions. When my youngest son of 3 hit the age of 4, my writing emerged full throttle. My husband came home to our house in Old Snowmass. He was exhausted and hoping to find me as he used to on Fridays, relaxing with an opened bottle of chilled white wine and dinner simmering on the stove. But alas, there was no spread of crackers, cheese and pepper jelly. The hearth was cold, and his wife was fuzzy, not from wine but from having been captured in the dungeon of my own website. He remarked that the scene looked exactly as it did when he left eight hours earlier in the morning. There I was, wearing the same headset and still waiting the expectant six minutes for a website technician to try and walk me out of the smoky depths of Internet hell. Seven months later, my website titled, Is Dis Normal or Dysfunctional, is up and running. Wherever I go in town, I get comments from people on how they love reading my blog. They often admit that they are embarrassed that they visit so often, and they blush as they tell me that they like being a voyeur in my life.As my audience grows I have been awakened to the dangers of exposing myself online. One reader, a distant acquaintance, commented, “It is overprivileged people like you that push my blue-collar, cigarette-stained buttons, but I can’t help coming back for more.” His comment fueled my creative fire, and I responded by writing “The Rising Phoenix,” which you can visit on my blog. I have learned that I need to toughen up when it comes to negative comments. There are always going to be readers who misconstrue my message or get a rise out of my content. I am ready to face the risks involved in being real and exposing myself. It is difficult to not internalize negative comments made, but I am learning how to use it as constructive criticism and interesting new posts. It is difficult to get upset these days as every experience lends to great material.It has been a lot of work to find my niche and get my blog recognized, and I know I have a long way to go. I truly cannot stand the social-networking aspect but have found Eric Fullerton, a very wise and experienced local search Eengine operator. He is training me on the elusive web-world, and thanks to him it is becoming less and less intimidating and mysterious. When I became the featured TwitterMom of the week, this past Monday, I exhaled a huge sigh of relief. It has been a journey to get to this moment of recognition. It has taken Twitter, Eric and my working five hours a day during the witching hours to get to this point. As my audience grows I realize that I have gotten on the wildest roller coaster ride of my life, and if I don’t stay buckled in I could easily fall off. I started writing to document my life’s amazing journey, lest I forget any precious moment. It has become a passion, and I feel like a freight train gathering momentum to where? I have yet to see.To visit my blog go to visit the TwitterMom of the Week story go to: Livingston Snowmass