So I took a pretty big, unannounced internet sabbatical.
No, I haven't completely abandoned my computer. I'm an information junkie. I could live without the internet, but the idea doesn't thrill me. I spend a lot of time busy and running around like a crazy person, but I spend a lot of time sitting with my kids while they're watching TV and stuff, too. Since I obviously am not greatly entertained by the likes of Caillou and Marvel Heroes, I usually spend that time reading and looking at stuff on the internet.
So, my break wasn't from the internet in general (although I have been spending a lot less time on ye olde computer), just from specific things on the internet.
You see, it hit me one day what I had been spending big chunks of my time on. Updating my Facebook status about what I was spending my time doing... posting pictures of my life... writing blog posts all about me. Me, me, me! Ugh.
Have you ever gotten tired of the sound of your own voice? That's sorda what happened only it wasn't my voice.. just the sound of me typing... about myself... a lot. And to be quite honest, hearing everybody else talk about themselves was getting a little old, too.
During my time "away," I gave a lot of thought to this blog and what I had been using it for in its short life. When I started this blog, I had visions of grandeur. Notoriety... even, dare I say... fame?
And so I began filling it with the stuff I knew to be the post palatable to the blogging world. Crafty stuff, kitschy stuff off of Etsy and Pinterest, trendy stuff that made it look like I might have a clue about that kind of stuff, and brief quips about the cute parts of my life. All some greatly orchestrated (and tiring, I might add) attempt to up my coolness factor.
It was a fun ride and the maybe 6 or 7 comments I got from random strangers after shameless self promotion via various blog parties/carnivals gave me kind of an ego boost... but let's face it, folks... it just wasn't real.
A dear friend of mine and I had a conversation about our respective Facebook, etc. hiatuses (hiatusi?) and one of several conclusions we reached was the conviction we felt that the Facebook selves we had been publishing just wasn't the complete truth. Sure I has been sharing little truthful tidbits of my life here and there, but the picture I was painting of myself just wasn't the whole truth. The same was true with this blog.
The truth is that I don't sew and craft with great frequency except for when, true to my obsessive tendencies, I go on freakish sewing tangents and can't make myself stop. I cook for my family, but it's rarely ever exciting enough to take pictures of. I try to keep my house in semi-decent order, but peddling advice about it isn't really my style. And most importantly, talking about my favorite products and such is the biggest joke in the world because I'm here to tell ya... I don't care at all about trends, brand names, and what everybody else is doing. And furthermore, I don't particularly care what everybody else thinks of what I'm doing.
What I discovered... or rather, what God showed me about myself is that I'm too much an introvert to be that blogger who everybody wants to read. I tried posting all that other stuff because I really wanted to post every day and I sure wasn't gonna post what was really on my mind because nobody wants to hear some random housewife go on about whatever the soapbox topic of the day is.
But the more I thought about it, the more it nagged at me. And then I happened upon this verse...
"...a fool's voice is known by multitude of words." (Ecclesiastes 5:3b)
P.S. Had I mentioned that I love the Lord? And His Word? And that He saved me when I was 13 years old? Yeah... no I had not, in fact, mentioned that here. Chastisement has been part of my sabbatical, too. Big time.
So here's the deal. I not going to quit blogging because, if for no other reason, my mom likes to read my stuff. And I think if I'm only blogging so my mom can read it, that's a good enough reason for me. She taught me how to read and write, after all. And she carried me around for 9 months and almost gave birth to me in the front seat of a Toyota Tercel. So I sort of owe her.
And I will probably from time to time blog about my OCD sewing/crafting projects, the cute parts of my life, and random stuff I find around on the interwebs. But my main goal in all of this, however frequent or infrequent it may turn out to be, is to blog about more meaningful things. And to just be real.
Because, after all, I was just Megan a long time before I thought about being The Stingy Seamripper. And it's mighty hard to act cool when you were almost born in a Toyota Tercel.