What the hell am I even doing?
No, not with my life. I think I have that figured out. Maybe. Who really ever knows, right?
But a blog? Vlog? Let me get out my Urban dictionary. Where the hell do I find an urban dictionary? Amazon? Oh, good to know, its an app. Shit. That’s how my night went. Who am I talking to? Myself? Seems about right. Who the hell wants to listen to me anyway? I guess I have a lot to learn. Maybe that is the fun of all of it, or the stress. My wife will be thrilled when she finds out I took on another project (insert sarcastic smirk).
I am a member of what feels like 7,000 groups on Facebook. Cooking, cleaning, how-to this-and-that, women in business. I had this grandiose idea of writing blog, seems so easy right? Shit. No. I put my ideas into Facebook land and, to my surprise I got a lot of feedback, from a lot of really… interesting people. Maybe that isn’t the right word. Un-interesting people is the right word. I was referred to about 10 different blogs about beauty, the industry and life in general. Complete with (beautifully but boringly captured) iPhone images that seemed like stock Banana Republic ads and OPI nail polish ads. Why in the hell does anyone read this stuff? Who cares about the newest shade of beige? Or ‘greige’? That’s like grey-beige, right? Stop. Stop it now. I don’t have time to read this shit.
However, I’ll have to admit. I was intrigued. Clueless as I was to the world of blogging (not was, am. Let’s be real with each other!), I was bound and determined to find content relevant to my life. Why is there not a blog about life with never ending laundry and dishes? As in, not a million ways to make it easier, or how to eliminate it (because you can’t if you have kids, or a spouse, or are a human), but just like, hey, its cool if you want to go home and stare at your pile of laundry and drink a bottle of wine. Because you are not the only one, we all do it. And the perfectly labeled and organized laundry sorting bins are money wasting lies that only make you feel like you have your shit together for like, five minutes. Until a kid is crying or a dog tearing a hole in a sofa. And that fancy “dirty/clean” magnet for the dishwasher from Etsy? Cutest thing ever, when someone fucking uses it. But my dishwasher only works half the time, so unless it gets used, its useless.
But, I digress.
Where are the blogs about how to fix last night’s make-up from your drunken stumble home when you are already a half an hour late (because i ALWAYS am!), instead of perfecting a perfect wing liner (hey, did you know that some people just flat out shouldn’t fucking wear wing eyeliner!?)?
Where are my whiskey drinking, laughter filled, mildly naughty mom friends? The ones who don’t feel compelled to make pinterest-worthy birthday cakes for the one year old (or twelve year old) who doesn’t give a shit? Where are the women who want to ruffle the feathers, and don’t care about the dust? Furthermore, why aren’t we applauding them? Why aren’t they in the spotlight? This can’t be real life.
I work 40-60 hours a week. I own a pretty successful, but tiny salon in a beachy little town. I have two kids. I have a wife. Sometimes, I don’t like any of those things, sometimes I love them all so much at the same time I want to cry. Mostly, that is about a week before the cramps start, but its fine, I get by. I swear, a lot. Not like a sailor, more offensively, I think. At least my dad thinks so. I am obsessed with food. Cooking is great, but I rarely have the time, but I sure as hell like to eat. I have the best friends in the world. They’re nuts- literally nuts, I think. Because we all are. And I love that. Our crazy is fun, so fun. So full of life, laughter, sometimes stress- but I will take it! Its what makes the world go ’round, right?
Either way, I searched for things that were relevant to real life, and fit into a busy schedule of someone who has exactly zero people to impress on Pinterest, or any other form of social media, for that matter. I found a few blogs, came across some wildly entertaining videos and had some laughs and will be following them for sure. But a friend told me that when you can’t find something, the only thing left to do is create it. So, here we are.
Welcome to the shitshow. Keep your hands and feet in the vehicle at all times, the ride gets wild. And if you spit wine out of your nose, it isn’t my problem. Cheers!