Blogging: My First Love Is Also My Current Love
Mamacita says: Some people are saying that blogging is dead – that Facebook, Twitter, and PInterest, which are faster and shorter and easier, are taking over the social media movable feast. Not for me. It is quite true that these platforms are taking up much of my former blogging time, but you know something. . . . popular and fun and useful as other aspects of social media might be, my first love is also my current love: blogging.
I am one of the old-school bloggers. My archives go back to April 2004, and by blogging/social media standards, that’s practically ancient.
I go to conferences mainly to meet up with other old-school bloggers. Oh, I love meeting the newbies, too – we all begin everything as 
newbies – but my heart beats with love at the very thought of the other old-timers, the bloggers I’ve known and followed for years. I’d list them here but they know who they are. I only hope they know how precious they are to me.
Whether I’m speaking or just attending, blogging conferences are necessary for my soul.
My clients are precious, also. I give them my full attention, and I hope I give them exactly what they need and want. I also hope they let me know pronto if I don’t.
This blog is not a client blog, although several clients have “discovered” me here. This blog is where I talk about my own “stuff,” and if that is of interest to others, more the better. (SQUEEEEEEE….)
Blogging saved my soul alive, but that is probably another story. Someday, perhaps I will have the courage to tell it. Some of you already know it, and your support has meant the world to me.
Those of you who have encouraged me along the way will be precious until the day I die. Possibly even after that.
Blogging has enhanced my life. It has enhanced my teaching. It has enhanced my social media work. It has enhanced me. Our blogs are an extension of. . . well, us. This blog is me I. (First person nominative pronouns follow linking verbs. . . .) <–Proof that this blog is about me. (First person objective pronouns follow prepositions.) <–More proof. Real blogs are about real people. Don’t confuse a real blog with an ad campaign, or anything the writer is being paid to write. Personal blogs and business blogs are not the same thing.
Yes, a blog, done up right, will be a conversation. It will be therapy. It will be an open window and, if you’re lucky, an open door. A blog will help you learn about others, but mostly, it will help you learn more about yourself. Your blog will be a living thing, with a heart and a soul. It will make you better. Mine is improving me, ongoing.
I think it would do the same for you. Give it a chance.
Blogging is far more than keeping a diary of what you had for dinner. That might have worked for Samuel Pepys, but these days people save that stuff for Twitter. 🙂
We had chicken/cheese enchiladas for dinner tonight. Interested? I thought not.
Blogging gives us a look into other people’s lives, and allows us to become acquainted, really acquainted. Blogging lets us share, and help, and like each other and, sometimes, even love each other, and I don’t necessarily mean the romantic or creepy kind. Blogging is the village that everyone needs.
I met some of my best and dearest friends via blogging. So can you.
What are you waiting for?
Things I Still Haven’t Done. Yet.
Mamacita says: I’m not the only procrastinator you know, but I’m probably the only one who still hasn’t used an ATM machine.
Ten things I still haven’t done:
1. Used an ATM machine. (Oh hush. I understand they require money.)
2. Peed in the shower. No.
3. Awakened in the early morning refreshed and ready to meet the day. Never, as far back as my memory goes. I do not “do” early morning gracefully or graciously, period. I have enjoyed a beautiful sunrise on occasion; you know, right before going to bed.
4. Enjoyed wearing a heavy coat even when it’s freezing cold outside.
5. Fallen in love with a dog. (We never had dogs; we had cats, and it was risky falling in love with them because I grew up on a really busy corner in the middle of town. Every cat we ever had – and we had a lot of cats – ended up pancake-style in the middle of the street. I live in fear of finding my current cats that way.) I haven’t ruled out having a dog; I love their faces. It’s just not in my experience.
6. Outgrown the Monkees.
7. Worn a lot of makeup. I could use some, according to Mom, but I just never developed any interest in it. Obviously.
8. Cared much about fashion, period. Again, obviously.
9. Had a pedicure. This is on my bucket list, though, as I understand they give you a leg massage. I’m in your power if you give me a leg massage.
10. Outgrown Spencer Gifts or the gift shop in pretty much any museum, gallery, or theatre.
Everything is overpriced, but most of our coffee mugs bear the name of a Broadway show. You can’t buy those at Target.
*11. Possibly, growing up. Growing up is for suckers.
*Bonus. Everybody loves a bonus.
Half A Pot Roast, and a Mashed Grilled Cheese, Please
(From 2004)
Mamacita says: Remember that anecdote about the young bride whose husband asked her why she cut the beef roast in half before she put it in the pan?
She told him she did it that way, because her mother always did it that way.
So the young husband asked his mother-in-law why she had always cut the beef roast in half before she put it in the pan. Her reply? She did it that way because HER mother had always done it that way.
At the next family dinner, the husband asked his wife’s grandmother why she had always cut the beef roast in half before putting it in the pan. Her reply? Because her mother had always done it that way.
His wife’s great-grandmother was still alive, so he went to the nursing home and asked her why she always cut the beef roast in half before putting it in the pan. Her reply?
“I only had the one small pan, and the only way a roast would fit in it was if it was first cut into two pieces.”
When my children visit, I often think of this story. I don’t know if it’s true or not, but it might as well be, because so many of the things we do make no sense except in the context of the past.
First of all, both of my children love grilled cheese sandwiches. I mean, who doesn’t? Secondly, neither of my children will touch a grilled cheese sandwich unless it was made with Velveeta.
Thirdly, and most importantly, I can grant these wishes because A. I won’t eat a grilled cheese sandwich unless it was made with Velveeta, either, and B. Velveeta is a name brand food I can actually AFFORD!
When my son comes down to visit, usually on a weekend, the minute he enters the house, he requests grilled cheese sandwiches. When he was a little boy, the only way he could eat a grilled cheese sandwich was if I mashed it down flat with the spatula after the Velveeta had melted. THEN his little mouth could close around it, and he could eat the sandwich “like a man.”
He is a grown man now, but he still wants his grilled cheese flattened with the spatula. 
Because that’s how his mother always made them, the mother being me, and the flattening of the grilled cheese because it was the only way he could fit it into his tiny little mouth.
If he gets married, I can’t wait to hear about his wife’s reaction when he asks her to mash a perfectly good sandwich flat. Will she question it, or just do it?
Sometimes, family traditions have serious beginnings and funny middles. As for the endings, there aren’t any, not really.
