A Blog? A Blerg!

I did it.  I started a blog.  

"Blerg!" 

As the great Tina Fey so geekily, yet truthfully, coined as Liz Lemon on NBC's 30 Rock, "Blerg" is a verbal denotation of exasperation, perhaps frustration; as Urban Dictionary puts it, Most commonly used in the same context as 'oh damn.'

 And this is how I begin my blogging journey?  Yes!  It's intimidating!  And then I say to myself, "But Prentiss, everyone is doing it..."

Yes, I am one to fall in to peer pressure from time to time.  But only from time to time:

 My upbringing was constantly reiterated with sayings like "March to the beat of your own drum," as my mother swept me out of our peace frog bumper sticker laden Volvo station wagon.  Peer pressure was something I laughed at in those D.A.R.E. classes in the 5th grade where police officers would come to talk to you about the danger of leering drug temptations.  Peer pressure was not in my vocabulary as a pre-teen, OK?  Needless to say, you never found me smoking behind the English portable in junior high before 2nd period, or going into the closet to make out with the smelly, greasy faced 14 year old boy next to me while playing Seven Minutes in Heaven at the first co-ed Halloween party I'd ever been to in my whole life.  I didn't even WANT to play Seven Minutes in Heaven!  I wanted to bob for apples and talk about plays!  (OK, I was a square.)  In 7th grade, my only falling into the peer pressure pool might have been when I bought my first pair of Chuck Taylor shoes, because "all my friends were doing it."   And, I suppose that is a sad excuse for snapping under peer pressure.  I marched to the beat of my own drum.  What can I say?

So you gave into peer pressure now, you might ask?  For a BLOG?

Yes.  To blog.

I suppose the seed of blogging peer pressure was planted several months ago, amongst the often trivial Facebook status updates.  Occasionally, I would come across a friend's blog link.  Being the Internet junkie I am, I would read it.  Literally any friend's I came across. And soon after, I would feel a sense of connection to that friend that I hadn't known before.  No matter my level of intimacy with that given friend, somehow these virtual words on a virtual page connected us, and inspired me beyond belief.  I realize it takes a huge amount of bravery to put personal words on a page and then let someone read them, let alone complex and intimate thoughts for the entire world wide web to see.

Blogging never crossed my mind until many months ago, when my so very supportive boyfriend suggested I start a blog about cooking and household experiment findings I'd been conducting.  I laughed at the notion then, and have been laughing for several months.  Yet, the lingering connection and impact my friend's blogs had on me initially, and their continual resonance as they update with more posts stuck around with a gnawing patience.

The artist in me is shifting, as we artists often do.  The perception I had of myself as an artist is changing into a new permutation.  My creative outlet has been demolished, or broken or shifted with this personal persona re frame, and so the a new outlet must rise, I think.  My perfectionist personality tends to get extremely overwhelmed by decision making, and my previously irregular lifestyle has never been condoning to ritual.  I am learning, however.  About all of these things and more.  I am learning more in my life now, than ever about who I am...and who I am becoming, and who I am becoming.  Much more on all of this soon.  But know out of this:

The muse of the blog struck me.

After my striking, of course I began thinking of trillions of ways to talk myself out of a simple endeavor such as pressing a button to type some words that people may or may not read.  I was resistant, because it was intimidating. Firstly, do I have anything to say to my friends far and wide?  Moreover, do I have anything to say to the world wide web, meaning, the world?  Is what I have to say worthy?  What background do I choose?  What font do I choose?  What do I call the blog?  Who the hell sits around and comes up with font names like Homemade Apple?

You see the vritti, the mind chatter, the monkey chatter as my dad says...the self-doubt, the anxiety, the whirlwind of question and thought has been quieted began with one step and ended with a completion of that step.  I pressed the button.  I began at the beginning.  I quelled those doubts and questions, even for a second, and began something that, I think, is going to bring a lot of solace to my life, and I hope to yours.  I started this blog, here.

As I look back at these collected paragraphs, I think, you mean all that for a blog?  And, even through this first entry, I am finding my voice and saying to myself, "Yes."  "All of that.  And it is OK.  You are allowed that.  You are worthy of that, and more."

You hear that?  I am worthy a blog, DAMN IT!  It is a small start to the awakening of something large.

Now, when I watch 30 Rock in it's last episodes, every time I hear Lemon exclaim, "Blerg!"  I'd like to think that her subtext is as long as this.  My first blog post.  Because, frankly, I think people go on this wild goose chase of doubt and discovery and self-conflict more than they let on, or perhaps even know how to begin to let on.  And, here I am, it's 1AM, I've formatted lots of templates, I deleted my first blog because I spelled Papillon wrong (more on that later), after paragraphs upon paragraphs, (thank you, kind reader, for sticking with it), I've surrendered a bit.

I can breathe a bit deeper.  Here I am.

Here I am:   Blerging...uh...Blogging.