Renovations
If you are reading this, it is most likely because you are a friend of mine, a colleague or an acquaintance. And, if you are, you may have stumbled over this little blog before. And, if so, you maybe wondering about the new look.
A few days ago a good friend of mine asked me how Weight Watchers was going. As you may already know, I don't work for Weight Watchers in any capacity. So she wasn't asking how they are doing financially. She was asking me how I was doing on the program.
In the beginning I was vocal about this new try at a slimmer me in the way that most people are about their New Year's resolutions. "If I say it out loud, something will actually come of it." Not only that, but saying so out loud lets everyone in the room know you have a problem and you are working on it. A sort of odd form of self preservation. Of course, in the best case, purpose is so that these people will offer you support on your journey towards wellness...or fitness...or thinness...or happiness...or something that a diet is supposed to supply that an extra serving of food doesn't. Although, the moment you say diet out loud free cake seems to appear everywhere, at every turn, for no reason.
I told this friend I had quit Weight Watchers. It was becoming a kin to my gym membership: a charity that doesn't deserve my money yet I feel guilty if I stop paying. But I was done with feeling guilty, so it was either actually make time and care or drop it. So I dropped it. This good friend looked at me sympathetically. "Yes," she said with knowing eyes. "Change is scary."
I don't disagree. Real change is really scary. But I quit because I hadn't changed and it occurred to me that if I was going to change it wasn't going to be because of Weight Watchers. I joined for the same reasons I buy magazines in the checkout line or old books at bookstores. I joined Weight Watchers the same way I join the gym. Impulsively and somewhere between a day dream and a wish. How was the program supposed to change me if I hadn't come into it already changed? I wasn't really going to loose weight. I was going to dabble in it for a month, feel guilty for two months, forget about it for another month, and then procrastinate for the last month. Which is what I did...and probably will do again in a few years.
And, further more, this particular change was an attempt at the normal kind of change I always go in for: cheep, cosmetic, impermanent, and (if it works) immediate. But, in the end, without substance.
Why bring this up?
Because I want to pretend to change by redecorating and freshening up. I want to write more and better. So, just like a new coat of paint, a new lipstick, a new hairdo, or a few pounds off I've remained the look and feel of my tiny corner of the internet. Cheep. Cosmetic. Impermanent. Immediate. Just the kind of change I go in for.
I've heard rumblings (and I believe them) that blogger is an inferior platform for public journaling. That it looks (and is) cheep and anyone who uses it inevitably will be perceived in that light.
If the whole of the internet is a fasade, I feel no need to apologize for choosing the one that best suits me. I don't want to learn a new platform. I don't want to spend money on a personalized address. I don't want to change.
I just want to write. And a new coat of paint every now and again may make me feel like I've changed just enough that I might be compelled to write often. With any luck, one day I might even write well. Then, after that, heaven bring me the ability to write something someone may care about. And, if I'm very lucky, maybe someone will even read it.
A few days ago a good friend of mine asked me how Weight Watchers was going. As you may already know, I don't work for Weight Watchers in any capacity. So she wasn't asking how they are doing financially. She was asking me how I was doing on the program.
In the beginning I was vocal about this new try at a slimmer me in the way that most people are about their New Year's resolutions. "If I say it out loud, something will actually come of it." Not only that, but saying so out loud lets everyone in the room know you have a problem and you are working on it. A sort of odd form of self preservation. Of course, in the best case, purpose is so that these people will offer you support on your journey towards wellness...or fitness...or thinness...or happiness...or something that a diet is supposed to supply that an extra serving of food doesn't. Although, the moment you say diet out loud free cake seems to appear everywhere, at every turn, for no reason.
I told this friend I had quit Weight Watchers. It was becoming a kin to my gym membership: a charity that doesn't deserve my money yet I feel guilty if I stop paying. But I was done with feeling guilty, so it was either actually make time and care or drop it. So I dropped it. This good friend looked at me sympathetically. "Yes," she said with knowing eyes. "Change is scary."
I don't disagree. Real change is really scary. But I quit because I hadn't changed and it occurred to me that if I was going to change it wasn't going to be because of Weight Watchers. I joined for the same reasons I buy magazines in the checkout line or old books at bookstores. I joined Weight Watchers the same way I join the gym. Impulsively and somewhere between a day dream and a wish. How was the program supposed to change me if I hadn't come into it already changed? I wasn't really going to loose weight. I was going to dabble in it for a month, feel guilty for two months, forget about it for another month, and then procrastinate for the last month. Which is what I did...and probably will do again in a few years.
And, further more, this particular change was an attempt at the normal kind of change I always go in for: cheep, cosmetic, impermanent, and (if it works) immediate. But, in the end, without substance.
Why bring this up?
Because I want to pretend to change by redecorating and freshening up. I want to write more and better. So, just like a new coat of paint, a new lipstick, a new hairdo, or a few pounds off I've remained the look and feel of my tiny corner of the internet. Cheep. Cosmetic. Impermanent. Immediate. Just the kind of change I go in for.
I've heard rumblings (and I believe them) that blogger is an inferior platform for public journaling. That it looks (and is) cheep and anyone who uses it inevitably will be perceived in that light.
If the whole of the internet is a fasade, I feel no need to apologize for choosing the one that best suits me. I don't want to learn a new platform. I don't want to spend money on a personalized address. I don't want to change.
I just want to write. And a new coat of paint every now and again may make me feel like I've changed just enough that I might be compelled to write often. With any luck, one day I might even write well. Then, after that, heaven bring me the ability to write something someone may care about. And, if I'm very lucky, maybe someone will even read it.
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