For those who do not blog, having your blog redesigned is a big deal. For most bloggers (especially those of us who can’t write code) it’s something we’re going to look at everyday for a long time. And if you screw it up, it’s like waiting for a bad haircut to grow out. Time seems to move slow, snail slow, molasses in January slow.
I’d had this blog slightly less than a year when I decided it needed a new look. During that year I’d come to realize a lot of things; short paragraphs are better than long ones. Not everyone is going to love you. And if you can’t handle that, you probably shouldn’t be doing this anyway. Get over it.
People who’d been blogging for a while told me that eventually that I’d find my “voice.”
I had no idea what they meant, ’til I finally found mine. It wasn’t exactly the voice I’d expected. Actually I really don’t know what I expected. Over the years though I’m becoming more and more outrageous. My “voice” is becoming louder, with fewer filters in place. Looking back though, I guess I might’ve expected this. It seems I’ve been heading this direction for awhile, decades actually,
In 1977 on my first trip to San Francisco, late one night a friend called and asked me to come right over. I rode across town in a taxicab to see what he needed. (It wasn’t a booty call.) I was already ready for bed when he called and was dressed appropriately. It didn’t cross my mind to change clothes before I left the hotel. The taxi driver didn’t look the least bit surprised as I rode across the city in my baby-doll shortie nightie.
I once flew cross country with my face painted—my entire face was covered with grease paint and glitter. The flight attendants kept giving me free drinks. I think they might’ve been a tad afraid of me. When I reached IAH I chased my mom through the airport, threatening to turn her into a toad. I was sure the silver wand I’d purchased on my trip would do the trick. (Perhaps all the free drinks I was given on the plane might’ve contributed to my behavior.)
Although he had turned me down twice that night, I asked a man I didn’t know to dance one last time. I left that club with him that night. We married three weeks later. We’ve been together twenty-eight years now.
When Brett was two and hospitalized with encephalitis and a stroke, I wrapped up our full size dachshund, Justin, in a comforter and snuck him into the hospital so Brett could see him. I was looking for anything that he would respond to. It didn’t work; but at least I tried. There are tons more examples over the years, but you get the idea I’m sure.
When I finally decided that I wanted to redesign my blog, I knew what I wanted. At least I thought I knew; and that’s what I told the designer, “I want something edgy- outside the box.” I figured I wasn’t exactly Susie Whitebread, an almost sixty-something, soon to be LOL, who’s going to grow old gracefully. So why should my blog look like one that Susie would like?
So after listening carefully, he came up with a header.
He sent this to me two days before I was leaving for NYC to go to the BlogHer conference. I chose to go a different a.k.a. less post apocalyptic, way—which is what you see at the top of the page. The question is, did I play it too safe? Recently I’ve had some people that suggested that I might have. Please tell me what you think. I would really like to know. Don’t look for me to change it anytime soon though. I like my Margaret Thatcher meets Monty Python kinda look.