This Is Me
Things my blog is not. It's not a daily, or even weekly, record of my life. It's not a forum for my opinion on or discussions about exciting current events. It's not highly interactive. It's not incendiary. It's not a (consistent) means for letting people know what's going on with me. It's honest, but not intensely personal.
Sometimes I feel like my blog is this big fat mirror I'm holding up to my life and I'm looking at it with squinted eyes (like the way I watch a horror film - as if the image is out of focus, it'll somehow be less scary than watching it with eyes wide open).
My pastor has said, if you want to see where people's priorities are, look at their checkbook. I think it's true - and it's honest, because who writes checks like their life is going to be judged on it? It's a litmus test, if you will, and it doesn't lie.
I've been writing my thoughts on here since January 2004. While maybe more diverse topics at first, the novelty of the blog wears off eventually and you write when you feel like it and about what you feel like. After almost four years of not trying to make my blog anything, I feel it is what it is. So what is it? If I take a hard look at it, the topics that keep coming up again again feel almost embarrassingly simple and banal: running, dogs, and Steeler football. A random funny story, pictures and other topics sometimes find their way to the Publish Post button. But the consistent themes of running, dogs and Steelers dominate my blog - and therefore most likely my life.
My first thought is one of guilt - oops, God and Andy should probably be on that short list. Luckily they get a few honorable mentions here and there. And I have a quick answer for why they don't show up more. Reserved vulnerability might be a good way to describe my approach. I do not understand these teenagers today (how OLD am I?) that wear their heart on their internet sleeve for all to see. A certain amount of personal thoughts and ideas are necessary, but I have boundaries. Probably most of what I would write regarding my faith or my relationship with Andy falls out of my made-up bounds.
My second thought is another one riddled with guilt. I am so superficial. And obvious. Is this my life? Am I not more diverse? Well read? Philosophical? Maybe I am and those things don't make the blog. But maybe, for the most part, I'm not.
But if my parents taught me anything, it was not to apologize for who I am. The other day my boss and I had lunch at Panera Bread. I ordered the Chicken Tomesto Sandwich with no tomato. He looked at me like I was crazy and asked how I could have a "tomesto" sandwich without the tomato. I explained that I liked the taste of the tomesto sauce, and other tomato related products, but I don't like actual tomatoes - it's a texture thing. I said, I know, I know, it's a very Becky thing of me, referencing an acquaintance who is known for her picky eating. I shrugged if off and said, "but what do you want me to do about it?" He laughed and said, "but that was very Julie."
I like tomato related food stuffs, but not tomatoes. Every time you turn around I might be running, watching the Steelers, or talking about my dogs. What do you want me to do about it?
This is me. The blog does not lie.
Things my blog is not. It's not a daily, or even weekly, record of my life. It's not a forum for my opinion on or discussions about exciting current events. It's not highly interactive. It's not incendiary. It's not a (consistent) means for letting people know what's going on with me. It's honest, but not intensely personal.
Sometimes I feel like my blog is this big fat mirror I'm holding up to my life and I'm looking at it with squinted eyes (like the way I watch a horror film - as if the image is out of focus, it'll somehow be less scary than watching it with eyes wide open).
My pastor has said, if you want to see where people's priorities are, look at their checkbook. I think it's true - and it's honest, because who writes checks like their life is going to be judged on it? It's a litmus test, if you will, and it doesn't lie.
I've been writing my thoughts on here since January 2004. While maybe more diverse topics at first, the novelty of the blog wears off eventually and you write when you feel like it and about what you feel like. After almost four years of not trying to make my blog anything, I feel it is what it is. So what is it? If I take a hard look at it, the topics that keep coming up again again feel almost embarrassingly simple and banal: running, dogs, and Steeler football. A random funny story, pictures and other topics sometimes find their way to the Publish Post button. But the consistent themes of running, dogs and Steelers dominate my blog - and therefore most likely my life.
My first thought is one of guilt - oops, God and Andy should probably be on that short list. Luckily they get a few honorable mentions here and there. And I have a quick answer for why they don't show up more. Reserved vulnerability might be a good way to describe my approach. I do not understand these teenagers today (how OLD am I?) that wear their heart on their internet sleeve for all to see. A certain amount of personal thoughts and ideas are necessary, but I have boundaries. Probably most of what I would write regarding my faith or my relationship with Andy falls out of my made-up bounds.
My second thought is another one riddled with guilt. I am so superficial. And obvious. Is this my life? Am I not more diverse? Well read? Philosophical? Maybe I am and those things don't make the blog. But maybe, for the most part, I'm not.
But if my parents taught me anything, it was not to apologize for who I am. The other day my boss and I had lunch at Panera Bread. I ordered the Chicken Tomesto Sandwich with no tomato. He looked at me like I was crazy and asked how I could have a "tomesto" sandwich without the tomato. I explained that I liked the taste of the tomesto sauce, and other tomato related products, but I don't like actual tomatoes - it's a texture thing. I said, I know, I know, it's a very Becky thing of me, referencing an acquaintance who is known for her picky eating. I shrugged if off and said, "but what do you want me to do about it?" He laughed and said, "but that was very Julie."
I like tomato related food stuffs, but not tomatoes. Every time you turn around I might be running, watching the Steelers, or talking about my dogs. What do you want me to do about it?
This is me. The blog does not lie.
