Hello. I have some statements and questions for you.
Consider this a diary entry regarding my qualms about recently and wholeheartedly diving into blog land.
In general, I dislike blogs. There are a smaaaaall handful that I follow and enjoy. You can consider me a total hypocrite since I’ve been writing on a blog since 2008.
Since then, blogs turned into bloggers, and (many) bloggers turned into some kind of narcissistic subculture of social media.
And now I have this twitch anytime I say I have a blog.
But—aren’t all blogs essentially the same? Travel, fashion, food.
They all consist of the same few things, packaged up slightly differently.
Not unlike: Taco Bell.
It’s just the same handful of ingredients in a variety of shells (chalupas being my favorite).
Haven’t we had enough, America? Aren’t you sick of this stuff?
Nope. America can never have enough. Beans, Crunchwrap Supremes, Mexican pizza, processed nacho cheese, bloggers posting aerial view pictures of themselves drinking coffee in bed with a laptop, all of it. America EATS IT UP.
So, do I have to have the same ingredients to gain traction? Is that the secret to success? My traveling is to Costco, I like fashion BUT, and food I could never photograph before I eat it.
Also, I don’t care. (I would hope to still be considered a chalupa shell, though.)
That leaves one element of “blogging” (twitch)…photos.
My question to you: do I have to have pictures? If so, can I just look down and away in them all?
I’ve nixed all the rest of the blogger secret sauce trifecta (food, fashion, travel), and respectfully disregarded all my paid-for mentoring advice. (An aesthetic for my feed with a color matrix? Who has time for this?) I reminded myself that I’m spending one year out of the nine I’ve “blogged” actually trying, and I won’t let myself shy away from this completely, so I did have my friend Jess take some photos for me today. Thankfully, she knows I’m super embarrassed having a photo shoot of myself, and makes me feel a whole lot less stupid. She even drove twenty minutes away to an undisclosed location, because I would be mortified if anyone I knew saw it all in action.
Wow, yeah. Jessica Cannon, you’re super nice.
Have I emphasized enough how awkward posting photos of myself makes me? I had to remind myself of other uncomfortable situations I’ve been in (albeit less self inflicted).
Liiiiike having my luggage searched on my honeymoon.
Or having Gus give a loud play by play of (and usually applauding) everything going on in my stall when I’m using a public ladies room.
Pursuing goals often tiptoes out of your comfort zone, right?
DID I LEARN NOTHING FROM LALALAND?
If you’re telling me photos make blogs more enjoyable, it’s important to me that you know this: I’m not taking photos because I think I’m awesome and living some fabricated life. I don’t care if YOU think I’m cute, but I would crawl away in shame to an Amish town if you thought *I* thought I was cute. Okay? Like Uncle Jesse says, “Capisce?”
This little chalupa shell will sleep a lot better tonight getting this clarification of her chest.
(Somewhere, an old boyfriend is feeling so relieved that he sidestepped a girl that is making Taco Bell analogies at 11:30 PM.)