See these earrings?
Pretty snazzy, aren’t they? Betcha wanna know how you could possibly get your hands on a pair of these little babies, don’t ya?
Well…I’m not going to tell you. Turns out I suck at getting other people to pony up for a worthy cause like The Julian Project, even when offering Pretty Things to encourage participation, so I’m just gonna go with what works this time. CJ Redwine’s sister, a.k.a. HC Palmquist, happens to rock the socks off of earrings like these. In fact, she’s the only one who donated for the last pair, and she basically offered me a pie to just hand these over to her. (She makes really good pie.) I was about to say yes and then we both came to our senses because there is the Julian Project and all so we decided to proceed and pretend like I have influence over all of you by admitting I don’t have influence over any of you.
CJ Redwine happens to think it’s genius. Also? She totally let me pimp out her were-llama famousness for the sake of maybe helping me donate more than what I can talk Buttercup into giving me from her piggy bank. Which? Makes CJ even more awesome than I had previously assumed based on how much I like her sister’s pie.
And I really like her sister’s pie.
But that’s neither here nor there because no one wants to donate $5 to be in the running for one pair of these earrings or $10 for a chance at both pairs except for CJ Redwine’s sister, right?
So here’s the deal, CJ Redwine’s sister: click here and do that donation thing then come back to this post and leave me a comment letting me know if you are trying to win one or both sets of earrings. Tweet this. Facebook it. Blog about it. None of it’s gonna get you extra entries because I’m revising a manuscript right now and don’t have the time to keep track of all that craziness but tweet, Facebook, and blog about this if you can spare a moment and it makes you feel good inside. Don’t get all anxious and stuff since you’re probably the only one entering, anyway, so this is as good as in the bag, right?
The reverse psychology worked, yes?
Let the craziness begin.
More fine print: CJ Redwine rocks.
Even more fine print: And so does her sister.
Donations and comments will be accepted through Friday, November 11, at midnight, EST. The winner(s), presumably CJ Redwine’s sister, will be announced the following day here on the blog.
I think I have blogger’s block. Normally, I’ve got about a million ideas swimming through my head with roughly 95% of them earmarked for Blog Posts I Would Have Time to Write if I Hired a Nanny and by the time I sit down at night to get the ideas on the screen, I have to decide which idea gets to be born into words and off I am on my merry way.
Lately, however, I’ve been struggling. Maybe it’s lack of motivation. Maybe it’s stress. Or maybe I most likely need to borrow some of HC Palmquist’s Ambien or Robin O’Bryant’s pet Leroy and see where those avenues take me for inspiration. I had originally been thinking of buying a huge metal chicken named Beyonce to be my muse, but looks like that’s already been done. So instead I’ve been finding myself staring at an empty square on my screen waiting to hold my words while Add New Post kinda just stand there, mocking me.
A new post about what? Maybe it’s just me, but I sometimes wonder if I need to filter my moods when deciding what to post. When it comes to blog hits, funny works. Introspective? Not so much. But that leads me to question why I am blogging anymore if my only desire is to see an upward trend in readership because if ‘m not writing for myself first than who am I writing for?
I’m not going to take some bullshit high-road and tell you that I’ve reached nirvana and no longer care what you or anyone else thinks and will be happy to just share my words on a public forum that no one other than myself makes time to read. I’m not going to tell you that being authentic is more important than being popular, mainly because, even through I agree with the sentiment, the blatant overuse of the word when it comes to blogging makes me want to pull my hair out. And I’m certainly not going to tell you that while your writing needs to be for you before it’s for anyone else, you had better damned well be thinking about your audience and your numbers and your popularity and your ability to network with other writers/bloggers/social media innovators to get your name out there for the sake of that Godforsaken platform because we’re happy your authentic blog that you write for religiously and maintain just for you because the mere act of sharing your words even if no one else is reading them is cathartic in and of itself but really? Who told you all that shit didn’t matter?
It’s all very chicken and egg-like. It doesn’t matter if our dream is to connect with others in the same place in life (shout out to all the Mommy Bloggers and a big WHAT UP to the Writer Mama’s out there!), or if we are trying to keep our heads above water in an ever-rising sea of expectations regarding what we need to have accomplished to be deemed worthy of a book deal (Bump-its come to mind), or if we just want to prove to ourselves that after wrangling the kids all day and looking for that nerve you are pretty sure you just had, we can still string together a sentence for other adults that don’t include the words “potty, nigh’ night, or Dammit, how many times do I have to tell you not to flash strangers your Hello Kitty panties to strangers in the middle of Target?” A dream is a dream is a dream. It’s just up to us to sift through the bullshit on the way, kick any and all irrelevant emotional baggage to the curb (being careful to store away the relevant emotional baggage for later use in the appropriate essays, articles, books, and or blog posts), and decide each and every time we sit down to send our words out into the universe what drew us to do so.
For me? This blog is my personal space which I publicly share. Sometimes I’m snarky, funny, offensive. Others I am introspective, reflective, and revealing. You might not like or appreciate the snark or maybe introspective isn’t your thing. And that’s okay. I’m not writing for you. I’m writing for me. And if something I say just happens to connect with someone who just happened to stop by on a particular day, that will be enough for me. I wore a mood ring as a child to let the world know without speaking the color of the thoughts I carried within my head. Now, there’s an app for that.
So which came first, y’all?
The chicken or the egg? The inspiration to share or the inspiration to influence?