Ever have one of those days where the metaphoric wax gets yanked off, and even as you admire the sight of pink, unfurred skin, you’re saying an indignant, “Ow. Ow. OW!”? Me neither, although if I did allow a beautician within three miles of my person, yesterday’s experience would have been comparable.
Two things happened, one which you probably already know because I broadcast it from here to Havana:
1. MSNBC has a blog site called IN-GAME about well, gaming, and yesterday they posted an impassioned essay about why all mothers shouldn’t be be tagged “anti-gamer“. Remember in September when I wrote about my experiences upon taking Frank to purchase Halo Reach? I’m honored to say they linked to it!!! I’m the first link below the second embedded video. 🙂
That was the great part of the experience. The part that sucked, honestly, was me. I thought I’d worked through the attention-whore part of my personality earlier this year. I thought I was over watching my blog hits and mourning when they never reached the heights of my two Freshly Pressed experiences. I thought I’d found my Zen center, my very Jan-ness again.
If I had, then why was I on my knees yesterday as I watched the hits rack up, huh? Why was I hooting and saying embarrassing things like, “Yeah, baby, yeah. Come home to mama”?
More troubling, If I am capable of this level of self-deception, then it’s possible I have my blinders on elsewhere. For instance, maybe there isn’t a Pernicious Pant Fairy who sneaks in at night and alters my waistline in a clever fey version of Gaslighting. Perhaps I am simply…burgeoning?
Maybe blonds really do have more fun.
2. With a fresh set of people poking through my website, I looked at it through their eyes. What would gamers see when they arrived? What gestalt did I offer a visitor.
Know what, peeps? This place is a mess. I’ve got Mr. Darcy in one (deeply delicious and wet) corner. I’ve got medium-brow interviews with writers in another. (They’d be high-brow, but my knuckle-dragging brings down the quality.) I’ve got posts about family, poems to my ‘flu, Daniel Craig popping in about every tenth post–
What was I saying again?
Anyway, look at my own pictures: I present myself as a graffiti’s sidekick in one post, a Madonna-ish figure in my avatar, a devoted mom in another. This place is a collection of words and man-candy images cobbled together with silly string and paperclips, clustered loosely around the general theme of citrus, and that’s my author brand?
Now, you may say, “Jan, what has this to do with me? Why should I care about yet another moment of self-doubt and course correction in your meager, pathetic, artistic life?”
Well, I’ve got good news for you, that’s why. I’ve found my way through this morass. Let me pick out the highlights of this post and perhaps you’ll spot the solution, too.
HINT: There is a unifying theme to the following:
- Jan is an attention-whoring sock puppet for her StatCounter
- Blonds have more fun
Peeps, it is with great excitement and wonder I introduce you to the new symbol of my blog — the one that will allow me to feel Zen-like again, if I must — but that will propel me to the blogging stratosphere and kick that Zen-like calm into the broom closet where – let’s face it – it rightly belongs. Ready? The new symbol and face of Tartitude from here on?
No more oranges, Tartitude Readers. I give you:
So, before I leave you, two questions:
1. Have you figured out what your website stands for, because as far as I can tell, mine stands for Wheeeee!
2. Ascorbic Acid: Sweet friend or seedy foe?