Too Long To Tweet- Thoughts on Life That You Didn’t Ask For

1) Walking a dog in high heels screams “I have a death wish.” This morning I took Scout out before I left for work and was at a full 45 degree angle the entire time. She gets so damn excited by squirrels and has no regard for my springy desire for wedges.

2) In related news- I realized last night that, in my head, my dog’s inner dialogue is teen-angst Sally Draper. It is not lost on me, that this is probably because I identify so closely with Sally’s snarkiness. Several times in last night’s Mad Men premiere, I was absolutely giddy about her mean-ness.

Gems included:

“She acts like she’s 25 just because she uses tampons…”

“First of all… I don’t know why you’re counting my meals…” (Said to her “I-Eat-My-Feelings,” formerly fat, mother.)

But I think Cosmopolitan’s digital director, Abby Gardner, put it best…

3) Melissa McCarthy throwing a toaster at her “basketball players” was the highlight of my Saturday night. And Sunday morning. And the other 6 times I’ve watched this video.

4) I’m so super pale that a walk on the canal and an outdoor beer left me a rosey red color that screams- Why is this girl not outdoors more? Is she related to Casper the Friendly Ghost? Why the hell did she choose an oddly cut v-neck that has created tan (burn) lines on her, inopportune for any other top she might want to wear?

5) Is there anything more ridiculously depressing than accidentally wearing a really cute outfit on a day of boring? And, I know, I know, we should dress for fabulous every day. Insert Coco Chanel or Audrey Hepburn quote here. WHATEVER. That’s not who I am. I’m the girl who, if she had her choice (and it were socially acceptable), would live in v-neck t-shirt and stretchy work out capris (While not working out at all. Instead, maybe eating something). So when I happen to put together an outfit that makes me feel particularly kick ass, and I have nothing but BLAH that day? I get irrationally bitter and feel like I’ve been somehow cheated.

6) Stop bitching at me for live tweeting tv shows. It’s not my fault you’re not watching it. As far as I’m concerned, the joy of viewing TV shows with a large social following, is as much about the social experience as the content. (In some cases, i.e. The Bachelor, with no redeeming content value of its own, the social component is the only reason I tune in.) So if you’re NOT watching the show? You should probably stop refreshing your Twitter feed.

(Of Note: This is advice I have to follow myself. If I get sucked into something else during Scandal, I purposefully avoid Twitter all evening. And if I don’t? I’m obligated to not yell at Tweet-ers for spoiling it. It’s social media. I’m aware of know how it works.)

7) My “I Have a Dog” post received a ton of hits last week. Thanks for that, random people who don’t usually read my blog, and probably aren’t reading this mess. I must say- this post started out, seeming like a super good way to share the random thoughts I had that were too long for Twitter and too short for individual blog posts. Now I may just be rambling…

In related news, I’m also writing a weekly column of sorts for twentysomething Indy, an online magazine with so many articles far more interesting than anything I would say. But, in the event you happen to read this, and are insane enough to think “GOD. I just can’t get enough of her. I NEED more,” feel free to click away. Highlight? I have my own logo. I’m pretty proud of that.

That’s all for now people. Have a lovely start to your week.

The Break: It’s Not You- It’s Me. (And A Little Bit You Too.)

Last night I went to a local Indianapolis event and, because I love the city and love people being creative, I REALLY wanted to love this event.

Mostly what I felt was irritation.

How can you present an idea as new when… It’s not new? We live in an age of technology. Did no one think to do a Google search to check out the market? Scope out the competition? See if you’re starting from the ground up on a project that someone else already has wellllll off the ground? And not just locally. NATIONALLY.

I just kept mentally quoting The Social Network:

“You know, you don’t really need a forensics team to get to the bottom of this. If you guys were the inventors of Facebook, you’d have invented Facebook.”

At some point, while I was trying to keep my snark under control in the name of, “I love Indy. Tweeting the shitty things I’m thinking isn’t fair to anyone, especially a group of people, trying to invest in this city,” my friend turned to me and said, “There are no more new ideas.”

I know he was teasing but…

I haven’t blogged in months and, when asked why this week, I sorted through a whole list of reasons:

1) I felt my snark had reached an all time high.
2) Life got busy.

But mostly…

3) What else is there to say….?

During the election, I should have been a blogging machine. I was in a constant state of crazy: Waking up early to catch the morning news and check Twitter, Huffington Post, and NPR before I ever stepped out of bed, dressing in themed clothing on debate days (See Below) and getting so worked up the week before the election, my friend Kristina suggested some sort of tranquilizer dart, in a suspiciously serious manner for someone who spends her days as a health care professional.

Even in the height of my fervor, even in the midst of spewing snark, I couldn’t bring myself to blog. Binders Full of Women could be covered in 140 characters of mocking, sure. Hashtags like #CantAfford4More provided an outlet (and a surprising number of retweets) without the need for deeper analysis or a long term commitment.

But there was no lack of dialogue, no new angle, no minuet detail someone out there wasn’t analyzing with excruciating specificity.

And it didn’t feel fun- The train wreck that was the primary, with its 9-9-9′s and the country of Africa and every drunken gem that tumbled out of Rick Perry’s mouth, suddenly had hit a wall. I was facing the reality of clear societal consequences and, for the life of me, I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

We live in a world, saturated with ideas and possibilities. Not only does everyone have an opinion on everything, but with the an Internet connection and a smart phone, we have a built in audience. And that new frontier is, in many ways, a blessing. It allows me to write this, engage a variety of sources and attend an event that springboards ideas.

But it also creates a world that acts as a vacuum- making it easy to believe your ideas, your thoughts and even your tweet about Lindsay Lohan is somehow innately valuable. (Did you see homegirl got arrested again? At this point, the mess isn’t even fun any more.)

So maybe sometimes a break is necessary, to take a moment to not just make noise and, perhaps most of all, sometimes, when you think you’ve come up with the next big thing- sometimes we should all utilize a little thing called Google.

I’m having a What Would Jesus Do moment.

It’s been a long time since I’ve written here.

I almost wrote its been a long time since I had rage but as my family, friends and next door neighbors who sometimes probably hear me yell can confirm, that’s just not true.

It’s just that, with all the election stuff, with being busy at work and being busy working on my New Years resolution of saying yes more, I’ve been far more busy doing than writing.

Until today.

As I scrolled through my Twitter timeline this morning, something I do several times in a day, a tweet caught my eye.

It read, “Addison [the tweeter's daughter] just saw a rainbow flag in a neighbor’s yard and said, “I want one of those in my bedroom.” Oh the challenges of parenting today.”

I debated a lot about responding to the Tweeter, but I do not follow him, nor do I know him personally. I also thought about posting the actual tweet here and linking to the Tweeter on here- his account is public which signifies to me that he is fine with being open about what he is teaching his child.

But my anger isn’t really about him, specifically. Nor do I think that my feelings or my beliefs could affect his. So instead I turn here, where I turn in moments of sheer frustration, to let it out.

First of all, there are only aren’t a lot of things I’d consider myself an expert in. Little girls? Totally one of them. Addison, whomever she may be, wants the flag because it’s pretty. It’s colorful and it’s bright and she wants that to decorate her bedroom because, if I had to guess, she loves bright colorful things the way most little girls do.

What this father did, through his reaction to her as well as broadcasting to the world through his tweet, is to give the impression that there is something wrong with flying a rainbow flag. He’s projected his intolerance and judgements onto what is arguably just a symbol, no different from the cross he may wear or the American flag outside of his house.

But I guess the real issue here is the larger implications, the ones his daughter couldn’t possibly understand yet.

The line from Dennis Leary’s stand up act that has been floating around the Internet (See Below.) immediately popped into my head as I thought about the world this man is creating for his child.

Because while Dennis Leary’s sentiment discusses race, the principle isn’t exclusive to it. Parent’s views shape children’s views and that goes for hate and intolerance of all forms. Intentionally or not this man just planted the seed that people- people who may be gay, may support gays, may have a son or daughter just like his who is gay are wrong. These people, willing to show their pride in who they are and the ongoing fight for equal rights, are bad and not just that, but they are to be avoided.

And to take it one step further, while I don’t know the child in question, I can’t help but wonder “What if?” What if that child someday realizes she’s gay? What if her best friend confides in her about his or her sexuality? Should her reaction to be to recoil as her father’s was at the mere mention of a rainbow flag? Should it be to cast this person out, as something she shouldn’t want in her life just as she was taught to over a simple flag? Why is this father making his daughter carry around the burden of his own judgement and discriminatory ways?

In the man’s Twitter bio, he quotes a popular Christian hymn, “Prone to wander, Lord I feel it, Prone to leave the God I love, Here’s my heart O, Take and seal it, Seal it for thy courts above.”

Can someone find me the passage of the bible that instructs us to judge our neighbors, to teach intolerance and to turn what is arguably a beautiful gift of nature and view it through the prism of hate? I seem to have misplaced my copy that contains that.

How much is too much? (My friend is much better than me.)

My friend Matt is smarter than me. 

He sings better than me, he writes better than me and he is continually funnier than me.

He also has a blog that is much better than mine because 1) He remembers to write on it on a consistent basis and 2) Did you not read the part about being funnier, smarter and a better writer than me?

The only time I beat him is on the rare occasion when he posts weird singing videos. I’m sorry Matt but I kick your ass on those “vlog” days. Brief classical training does make strumming a ukelele and creating your own songs ok.

Anyway, the other thing Matt has going for him is that he legitimately loves to write. He has a gift. I’ve kept just about every note he’s ever written me (including one where he outlines how I’m actually a gay man trapped in a woman’s body) because I’m convinced one day he’ll be famous.

While my blog posts usually take a sharp turn to the heartfelt and sarcastic, Matt always manages to make me laugh so hard I cry. He grasps brevity, where I blather on for 700 words.

Perhaps most of all, while I’m a card carrying crazy liberal some (most) days, his pieces are so funny, it’s almost impossible to find fault.

Almost.

Yesterday, after a particularly funny post that may or may not have suggested that, “Mitt Romney burns a $100 bill every time he sees a homeless person peddling for change” his mom decided to have a “carefrontation.”

She’s concerned that with his business degree and corporate dealings, someone might find him offensive.

While his response involved the assertion that if Fox News got away with so much hyperbole, then so could he, it really got me thinking: How much is too much?

Once upon a time, Miss Manners used to demand that people not discuss money or politics. It makes for bad conversation and for ill-feelings. But with the internet, a giant blank wall, awaiting all of our respective work vomit- where do we draw the line?

To the concern of future jobs- I can’t imagine working somewhere that cared who I voted for or how giddy I was when Rick Perry couldn’t seem to count to three. It’s part of who I am- I don’t want to ignore that.

Plus, I’m in a field where there are tons of creative people. I could make some generalizations here but instead, let’s just say that while I’ve never done an industry wide poll, I’m going to guess there are more than two people who would identify as being LGBT (or LGBT friendly) working in ad agencies, public relations firms and other communication fields- all across the country. (Possibly many more than 2.) So I think everyone can be ok with me expressing my beliefs in equal rights, or at least not SEEM too intolerant.

Other than that, I’m not sure.

How much is too much?

“The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge of controversy.” -Martin Luther King Jr.

Don’t start- I know my blog isn’t changing the world or breaking down racial barriers a la MLK. But I firmly believe that the passions we have, the beliefs we hold and the stupidity we are brave enough to speak out against may one day help make a difference.

You know, to the two of you still reading this.

The Story of the Pineapple (Why I am, the way I am.)

I’m pretty open about the fact that there are things I struggle with. I’m also pretty open about the things I am incredibly passionate about.

I figure it’s who I am: the love of pop culture, the passionate political views, the time I spend discussing both. It’s what I care about and it defines me in the same ways my blonde hair and blue eyes do. (That’s a bit of a fib. Alright, my blue eyes and my desire to go to a hairdresser to maintain artificially created blonde hair. Whatever.)

And while I try to draw the line at using social media to share my every emotion or my every move, I absolutely don’t hesitate to share something I care about. I figure it’s part of the power of social media- the ability to pass it on.

But sometimes I’m reminded that my opinionated self frustrates people.

In addition to well thought out and interesting responses, I also have emails of snarky comments and borderline nasty retorts.

“It doesn’t always need to be you,” I was told. “You don’t have to be so up front about your opinions.”

You’re right. I don’t.

But it makes me think about when I was going through Miss Indiana prep. The term “fakey” was used about me more times than I can count as I went through those countless hours of interview prep. And I remember being PISSED.

THIS is who I am. This is what I think. And I’m up here and talking and that’s HARD. You get up here and speak- it’s not easy.

But looking back, THAT anger, THAT frustration is probably what was missing. I shouldn’t have yelled at the judges, or challenged them to an “interview off” but that sugary sweet girl? That’s not really me either and certainly not all the time.

What can I say? Like most of the human race, at one point or another, I wasn’t quite comfortable being me and certainly not comfortable saying exactly what I thought. I’d somehow convinced myself that in order to get through- I needed to play the part of someone else.

It wasn’t until well after that I unconsciously made the shift into just being me. I decided I was going to stop worrying so much who was going to be offended by what I say, what I think, what I want and just put it out there.

I like to think I still have a censor on this side of professional and, that at the very least, I am both fair and accurate. But I also hope, when someone looks at me- whether on social media or not, they get a pretty firm idea of who I am. And I have to remind myself, if someone takes issue with it, we probably weren’t a match to begin with.

It’s like the pineapple story.

If a pineapple sits between you and I- I love pineapple and you hate it, that feeling is a reflection of our person. My taste buds, my personal feelings, are being projected onto the pineapple, just as yours are. While I’m using energy loving it, and you hating it, the pineapple is the same. It is no better and no worse off.

It’s one of my favorite metaphors, for relationships, for friendships, for life. Because I can’t control what you think. I can only control me.

And for my sanity’s sake- I just can’t sweat the stupid.

Who knew that Best Buy specialized in the Tango?

I work in public relations. I have dealt first hand with how nasty a “public” can get and I always try to keep that in mind when dealing with customer service. There’s a real tendency for technology to make people bold- to begin bashing and name calling from the safety of their own houses. Given a phone or a computer and anyone can become a warrior of words. But last night, after 2+ hours on the phone with Best Buy’s customer service, my patience was stretched as thin as it could go. Or so I thought.

Let me recap- My grandma got me a new tv for Christmas. When ordering, we called customer service to make sure I had the right cords to get it set up. They gave me numbers for the correct cords to “order” and I took that advice. After a wonderful experience with two incredibly helpful guys, Ramon and Brett, who delivered my tv, I was ready to get my tv hooked up. HDMI cable? Check. Crafty Red/Yellow/White cables? Check. Cord to hook my Mac up to the tv? No go. It wouldn’t fit. Anything. So I called Best Buy’s customer service line, thus beginning the customer service experience from hell. I assumed that 4 phone calls (I was accidentally hung up on. Twice.) 10 customer service/tech support/ geek squad members and a phase of 3-way calling across several states that the problem would be solved. We had finally come to a solution that involved me driving to the Greenwood Best Buy and swapping out the cable. I wasn’t thrilled. When a mistake is someone else’s fault, after I had been instructed that this was the CORRECT cable, me having to drive to fix it wasn’t necessarily my favorite solution. And to make matters worse, the inaccurate, run around of information I received in a 2-hour-long phone call only added to my frustration. But at least it was going to be fixed. I get to the Greenwood Best Buy, where I go to find Zack, my instructed contact. The department was busy, although there seemed to be several more people working than customers. Yet Zack kept telling me he would get to me, before wandering off.*** Each time, when he would return to the location where I had taken to sitting on a bench out of boredom, he would act surprised I was still there. I made friends with other sales associates, customers and one little girl who’s birthday is today. (Happy 6th birthday Natalie, wherever you are.) Low and behold, after his 4th trip back to the home media area, he hands me my new cord and I leave, thankful to be done with the experience. And then I get home. I plug in the cord, figure out how to set up my computer, switch the screen view and…. Nothing. I can see a picture but no volume. UGH. I Google the problem, which basically leads me to “call the manufacturer.” I call Rocketfish. The guy doesn’t know much about Apple products. He tells me to contact the retailer, who advised me that this was the correct cord. They should know. So I call Best Buy. A Geek Squad member gets nasty with me, telling me I seemed to be having a lot of problems, maybe I was just not familiar with technology. After 10 minutes of her condescension, and at times, flat-out-rudeness she tells me my computer software is out of date. I was told that I am unable to utilize my computer with my tv and I will have to pay for a software update as well as having technicians either come to my house or remotely access my computer. I asked for pricing and I was told it would range from $149-$199. I call Apple. I wasn’t sure how this would go since they are notorious for only helping within the warranty and having a 2009 MacBook Pro, I knew I wouldn’t qualify. Instead what happened was customer service at its best. The guy laughed as I explained that I was told I “couldn’t” do this. He told me the “Geek Squad” person was mistaken, that my computer is completely up-to-date, and that I simply needed a $6 y-cord. (And that there was NO reason to pay to have it “diagnosed.” Oh! And that he couldn’t imagine who would suggest spending money for something that was so obviously workable.) So tomorrow, I will march myself to WalMart and find a y-chord. I will hook it up, be thankful for Ramon and Brett and the wonderful guy working Apple’s customer service on New Year’s Eve. But mostly I will think twice before making another Best Buy purchase, especially as large of a purchase as this. How is it, that a company that sells electronics, including having a large inventory of Apple products, cannot diagnosis a problem as simple as “That’s an older model. Go buy a $6 cord”?? And how is it that twice, when Best Buy employees were the ones to steer me wrong, they expect meto go above and beyond to figure out a solution? How can one person’s simple multimedia problem constitute talking to 10 different people? And HOW can SO many people be SO rude?? I expect better. Best Buy can do better albeit for another customer, because this one is certain she won’t be going through this again.

The tv, finally hooked up and in action. Note the bevy of cords and utter mess. You can almost smell the despair and frustration.

And that is how I spent my New Year’s Eve Day. God bless us everyone. *** It was at this point in the adventure that I began mentally (and on Twitter) calling him ‘homeboy’. He just gave off a homeboy vibe. I was later told, this word choice could be misconstrued as racist. For the record, it was not. The man was white and I just felt this was a nicer term than douchebag.

**********UPDATE***********

It is officially New Years Day, I have bought the y-cord and still do not have sound. Because there was no way in hell I was going to deal with the sheer insanity of Best Buy who cannot give me a straight answer, or as we learned last night, an accurate one, I called Dynex, the maker of the tv. I am currently on hold, after talking with a man I can only describe as Mr. Rogers. He keeps calling me Kara even though I spelled my name to him. On the plus side, he is trying very hard and talking in a voice that could convince anyone to move to Sesame Street. Or wherever it is he lives in magical PBS land.

*********Further Update************

It is not Kara. It is Kiddo.

He is now telling me that Apple is wrong.

So I do a Google Search. It tells me that I need more cords. But I’m leery of this, as everyone I talk to just wants me to buy more cords. Jesus.

******UPDATE 27896*******

Against my better judgement I am calling Best Buy again. The first lady and I got disconnected as I was trying to read the label on the back of the tv.

I’ve now called back and am once again on hold.

*******UPDATE 7million*******

A Best Buy Customer Service Agent just told me that I can’t expect to call the customer service line for service related help.

SERIOUSLY???

Isn’t the very definition of customer service “service related help”??

She then told me this was really Apple’s problem. Which I must tell you perplex’s me. Best Buy carries Apple products. Best Buy sold me the TV. And the cords. They are the ones who instructed me each set of cords I “needed” to buy. So WHY are we still on the phone, being told I need to spend more money, buy more things, etc.?????

UPDATE PLEASE KILL ME

It is 1:00 in the morning. I am on hold with Best Buy’s Home Theater/Computer/We know everything and you know nothing department.

I’m now talking to a supervisor who has effectively told me that this sucks but there is nothing he can really do. He and some of the other guys are discussing possible solutions.

I have, once again been Google searching and found a site that gives me more info. But at this point I’m fairly certain Best Buy should have to deal with it. They screwed it up- FIX IT.

*********Update Morning 1/2/12*********

It is just 10 short hours since I decided to be done for the night and I am once again on hold with Customer Service. I now know what to ask for- according to Mac Forums  I need to find out how to set up my tv using an external analog audio cable, WHILE still using a HDMI cable for picture.

But Dynex tells me this doesn’t work for this tv. Instead what I need is a audio cord that will run from my computer to the BACK of the tv. For those counting this is cord #4. So to WalMart I go post workout/showe/etc. to try.

Stay tuned for further updates.

The Road To I Do.

It’s the season for engagements and suddenly my Facebook newsfeed looks like an ad for Tiffany’s.

Each time I log on I see a new relationship status and a newly uploaded blurry “hand picture” attempting to show off a newly acquired rock. (For the love of god ladies- learn how to tap focus on those smartphones.)

A couple weeks ago I logged onto a popular social media interest site, to see a just engaged friend busily “pinning” all of her future wedding plans. (A popular thing to use it for, I know. But I swear you just called me hours ago. I’m not even the one planning the wedding and I’m already exhausted.)

Who has the time, or desire, to begin planning minutes after the rock is officially on your finger? Shouldn’t you be still enjoying the excitement of engagement?

And part of my skepticism is simply because I’ve never been a “wedding” type girl. I haven’t been planning for the “perfect dress” or the “perfect day” since I was three. I don’t have a secret box of wedding clippings and I haven’t been busily Pinning things or pouring over the most recent issue of Bridal Monthly.

As much as I try, to excitedly congratulate friends, to act thrilled as they begin to sort through all of their glittery, lacy wedding dreams, I can’t shake the Ick-Factor. I can’t make my inner cynic shut up long enough to push this feeling aside.

(Full disclosure: I don't know them. Fully anonymous. Picture carnered thanks to a Google Search:)

Are your engagement pictures really meaningful snap shots of your love? Or overdone, cliched poses where you stood awkwardly to create a heart with your hands? Or feet? Or arms? (Really, photographers? We get it. They are in love. And hopefully you can capture that. But I don’t know that they PHYSICALLY need to form their body into some sort of bendy boney heart for their love to be seen on camera.)

And I have no doubt that these young couples love their future-spouse. I have no doubt they are excited at the idea of getting married. But I always wonder if marriage will live up to this hyped up vision for a single day. Perhaps we should blame the child-of-divorce in me, or my inherent cynicism, or maybe just the odds of successful marriages but I can’t help but think- Will the excitement be the same for husband #2? Or 3? Or 4?

I’ve done some self reflection and the unrealistic expectation I myself am obligated to claim involves a damn good engagement ring. Think about it- As a girl, it’s the piece of jewelry you are obligated to wear, day in and day out for your whole life. It should be pretty awesome then, right?

A prett-ily captured ring. Thanks to one of the countless people's dream wedding "plans". (Once Again: I don't know this hand- Still fully anonymous thanks to a search of Pinterest for "engagement rings."

Other than that, my entire wedding expectations involve a guy I’m pretty crazy about and the glittering lights of the Vegas strip.

Oh I know elopement isn’t for everyone. Heck, my future husband may hate the idea. (Don’t worry, I will wear him down. I’m VERY persuasive.)

And I also realize there are exceptions- beautiful, personal and heartfelt weddings. Ones that celebrate a relationship, not a single day. But as my social media drowns in countless signs of young-weddings and oh-so-competitive brides I keep wondering- is a culture of Platinum Weddings and keeping up with the others, is the wedding culture taking away the importance of the days, weeks and months after the “perfect” day?

Why yes, future son or daughter, that is me bent over a toilet…

When I was younger I used to love going through my mom’s things. I remember pouring over letters, papers, notes that she had kept from her grade school days- I loved seeing the present from her first boyfriend, the pictures of her high school sweetheart and thinking how glamorous she looked in her dance team shots. (That takes skill- her high school team wore sequin leotards and headdresses, politcal correctness be damned. Not many people can look as gorgeous as she did sporting lycra and feathers, trust me.)

It was fun, especially because growing up, Mom and I had our differences. Getting the chance to look back and connect with a younger, relatable Mom was something I treasured.

Enter the internet.

My life, my exes, and my oh so unfortunate chubby phase (See Below) are all OUT there. Unless aliens come down, throw Mark Zuckerberg off a bridge and crash Facebook, never to be seen again, I don’t see any avoiding that.

Beyond unfortunate... Although I was nice enough to leave out the beyond unfortunate ex-boyfriend as well.

For our kids, Social Media won’t be something their parents were introduced to for business, or use to keep up with their family. And for the 40-something version of ourselves, Social Media won’t be a part of our lives, but a constant documentation of our lives.

The Millenials are the first generation who will raise children that can Google their parent’s age-parallel web content and I can’t help but wonder how that will change the parenting process.

What is “our” response when our child reads our poor grammar as we go off on “bitches”?

What about a phase of self exploration, a tendency towards one night stands or the broadcasting of  ”Single Girl Problems”?  (See Below. This video is EPIC.)

It’s funny, because it’s true.

Right now, what are people finding every time someone Google searches you?

Is that how you WANT your past remembered?

Are You The Regina George of the Blogosphere?

Ever since I began working with blogs- researching them, reaching out to them, reading them on a fairly consistent basis, I’ve become intrigued. Some blogs are wonderful- The Bloggess, of “What a fucking bitch” p.r. fame, keeps me laughing on a regular basis. Mindy Kaling’s blog The Concerns of Mindy Kaling, is a new find and I find her wit, and shopping suggestions,readable and hilarious. Even after complaining about the vapid nature of some fashion/cooking/diy bloggers, there are a few I frequent including The Glitter Guide, Cheetah is the New Black, Sarah’s Laundry and See Anna Jane. To round out my blogging, I read a couple Indianapolis blogs- Doing Indy and the Indy Spectator.

And I must say, I am in awe of some of the bloggers I follow. I am fascinated by their leveraging of what they love to do, what they love to talk about, into opportunities. Let’s be honest, I would absolutely love to have someone paying me to talk about whatever is on my mind, be given exclusive access to special events or be given fabulous clothes to play fashion model with. (Hold on- The idea of a constantly replenished wardrobe that wasn’t causing my bank account to cry has caused me to daze off a little.)

And I’m back.

But there is a flip side to this trend. It is, what I would like to call, the Regina George’s of the blogosphere. (Remember the ringleader of the Mean Girl’s Queen Bees?) These, I’m sure, perfectly well-intentioned bloggers begin over sharing every detail of their lives via blog post. Entries begin to sound something like this:

A) This morning I_________.
B) For breakfast I ate ____________.
C) To occupy my morning I:
got dressed/worked out/went shopping/ made a giant paper mache eiffel tower out of: cookies I baked/puppies I rescued/paper from trees I personally developed and planted.

And my question becomes- WHO CARES?? What sort of personal affirmation are you so in need of that you are sharing with the world your every move? Or every outfit you put together each morning? Or, my personal favorite, everything you eat so that they can be just as ridiculously fit as you? It’s the internet equivalent of Regina’s desire to lose 3 lbs!

I understand that blogging can be personal. As much as I enjoy when my blog stats soar, I’m always equally surprised to learn people actually read my little rants.To me, it’s a form of self expression- audience be damned. On the other hand, these “day in the life” bloggers, always strike me as a symptom of the way we, the Millenial generation has been raised. It echoes our continual quest for stardom by acting as if we are so important, our every move needs documented.

It’s easy to forget this mess isn’t solely our fault. We’ve grown up with reality stars, in an era where notoriety has a strikingly similar path to fame as talent- Kim Kardashian anyone?

And we over share our life because we expect the world to care just as much as our parents did. We’re a generation that grew up hearing we could be anything we wanted. Princess? Sure. Firefighter? Why not. President of the US?? Well of course you can sweetheart! We are a generation whose parents were so concerned about not breaking this: “You are the Best” charade, that we got a medal, not for excellence, but for showing up. That’s who we’ve been raised to be.

So I blame that combination for what is happening in the blogosphere. It is what causes members of our generation to believe that if someone else garnered a book deal or received an invite to New York Fashion Week because of their blog then Gosh-Darn-It they can too. These not-so-good bloggers ignore the fact that, some bloggers are just great writers. They are original, they are driven, and what they say MEANS something. It is their talent, their unique point of view, and their general ability to not take themselves too seriously- THAT is how they become popular.

Because in blogging, with an Internet full of options, it is originality and talent that are cause for attention and staying power. Endless recounts of your every move? Well, you’ve successfully become the Regina of the Internets.

The Plight of Women

50, 60 years ago, society had a pretty firm definition for a woman’s role in society. Women’s job was to be pretty and helpful. Sure, they might go to school, they might even work. But these jobs weren’t about their personal success- No! They were means to an end- to finding a husband, to helping the family. Selflessness was a highly prized virtue for women, as was caring. Women were to care for the children, care for the house. They were to be “good wives.” Don’t believe me? There were “How-To” guides for being the ideal that included “Be happy to see him” and “A good wife knows her place.”

Let’s not kid ourselves- this life of selflessness and caring by no means assured happiness for the woman of the 50′s and 60′s, nor did it keep said husband happy or from cheating with his secretary, (Donald Draper, anyone?) But in those days the message was clear: sit down and shut up- this is where you women belong.

In todays’ world women have options.Women have more capabilities, more choices available available to them than they did 60 years ago. Yet it seems to me that women have not yet accepted, not yet embraced that power. Instead there seems to be a clear longing for yester-year, a prevalent cultural message (perpetuated by the choices we women make) that “Happiness is marriage and a family and the caring of both.”

The need for marriage begins for women before they even walk down the aisle. They collect bridal magazines, watch shows on the perfect day and dream of an eventbthat cant possibly live up to their expectations. For girls longing to walk down the aisle, popular wedding forum Brides.com, provides an entire support group for those ywomen who’s men have not yet popped the question. Over 7,000 messages on 642 threads bemoan the frustration women find as they wait for the man to ask them to get married. Women talk about 8 year relationships with out a proposal, counting down, setting deadlines. They ask other unengaged, unhappy women, why on earth the man of their dreams hasn’t proposed. They talk plans of the perfect dress and the perfect ring, when they obviously haven’t found the perfect relationship.

I see the same type pattern in the world of Mommy Bloggers/Fashion Blogger. Women post endlessly on what they wore today, or what their favorite new recipes is and how they made their house feel like a “home” with a craft project. One article sites as many as 42 million female internet users with as much as 43% seeking advice and community in bloggers.

Even more stunning is that industries have taken notice of this phenomenon. PR professionals, (myself included) pitch to them, wanting both their endorsement and the attention of the audience at their disposal. They are featured on TJ Maxx Commercials, invited to insider fashion week events and given products to review and discuss. The business industry is paying attention to the buying power and trends of these women who are taking pride, and finding success, in their decidedly female roles.

While the “Why-Won’t-He-Propose” bitch fest, signifies, to me, a total relinquishing of power, the female blogger phenomenon is a little trickier. On one hand, the power of women, to brand, to market themselves, to find a sense of community where we can learn from each other, says a lot about our awareness and abilities. On the other hand, why is it that where we are seeing a boom in women’s voices, is in the same cliched areas that we are quick to mock in the “How-To” guide. Are women sharing recipes and talking shopping for themselves? Or are they coming up with meals so as to “have dinner ready on time for his return” and to “look fresh on his arrival”?

I can’t help but question how we, as women, are using our voice. If we have the skills, the numbers, and the time (look at the number of Mommy Bloggers alone) why aren’t we using that voice and that audience for more important things than how to turn our old bra into an evening bag? (Could I make this up? No.) Love fashion, love your kids, share tips and trends. But don’t forget, that as easily as we can talk about those roles, we can also be talking about our role in society.

In 1950, women weren’t supposed to have a voice. It’s 2011 and we are fully aware that woman can do more. Knowledge, influence, is power we don’t seem to be sure what to do with it.