Shannon of Comments from a Non-Blogger asks:
Are you this funny in person? Is it hard for you to come up with funny stuff or do weird, random things happen to you so often that you just have to write about it? Do you feel pressure to always be funny or does it just come naturally? I know you have written some pretty serious stuff here, too, but you always come back to funny (I love reading both sides of you, btw), which is cool but is it hard (especially when things aren’t going well for you at the time)?
Since I will be attending my first Richmond Social Media Club event tonight, I felt like it was only fair to warn you. I’m pretty disappointing in person.
Like not really that funny. I’m still nice and honest. And awkward. But hilarious? Nope.
Oh sure, I can throw a zinger in here or there. But you need to be funny first. Or NOT mean to be funny. You know, set me up. Like volleyball. But without the falling on the floor. Or the knee pads. Although if I wore knee pads to the SMC event, I’d probably fake fall at least once just to try them out. I wonder if I can get a knee pad sponsor. Because even in this economy you can’t skimp on knee pads. That’s just WRONG. Knees have enough of a hard time with all that extra skin and everyone is always complaining: MY KNEES HURT. OH GOD I CAN’T WALK. IT’S GOING TO RAIN. I HAVE TOO MUCH CARTILAGE. WHERE’S MY PATELLA?
But since being so disappointing also means a plethora of pathetic conversations, it’s fairly easy to blog about all the crazy, random crap that I keep ending up KNEE HIGH IN. (It’s called SEO, guys, get used to it. I’m pretty sure SEO is like She Eats Otters, the old Eskimo saying about not letting go of a joke. also references writing blogs really really late at night.) And every story I tell here is true. We really DO have an apocalyptic water supply. I often spy on my neighbors (I haven’t written that post yet but I have pictures! Of me. Spying. Not of them. Stop being creepy.) I actually didn’t realize how strange this might be until I started writing it down.
After I realized that I COULD write the funny (since I don’t consider myself hilarious in person, this was mostly surprising. To my husband. Thanks Scott.), I felt a heart-crushing pressure to be funny. Which pretty much guarantees NOT FUNNY. Unless you WRITE about the heart crushing leading to death…. death by blogging. Although death is kinda difficult to make funny. I did mix funny and cancer once. But it was in order to save the earth people. Plus it stressed me out for like a week.
When I am struggling in my life, it IS hard to be funny. I don’t want to be fake. EVER. The honesty on my blog is more important to me than funny or well-written or interesting or readers or anything. If I stop being honest, WHO CARES about the rest? It’s not real anymore. It’s not MY BLOG. It’s like the fake Alex’s blog. Early is Awesome. Written by Bizzaro Alex. Who may be really funny in person. WTH! I HATE HER!
And during those times, I’ll sit at my computer, frustrated because WHERE ARE ALL MY WORDS? And after a few days of writing and hating it and writing and hating it, I’ll realize that I have something serious to write about that’s getting all up in my funny writing’s business. (biz-NAS) So now I have to dredge up and sort through all the feelings because I don’t want to just dump a semi-coherent mess in your lap that will probably stain your shirt. It’s just rude.
But I’m pretty good at not taking myself too seriously which makes the serious writing more difficult to KEEP serious. And is why my blog is more humor than anything else.
I do, from time to time, dread hitting publish. I want to hide the post, whether funny or serious, from the world. But usually I’m peaking through my fingers hoping my friends find my words and heart and life and laughter and share it with me.
And then you and others come and tell me I’m pretty weird but you love me anyway. Or at least laugh. With me. Mostly.
And that keeps me writing. And laughing. And being grateful that my weird and awkward had made me late enough most of my life.
I was just waiting for a place to put it.
So thank you.
Or the answer is seven, Shannon.