CROCK: An earthenware pot, or container. CROCKpot: a slow cooker. C-ROCKind: Me. A body of delicous ideas, intense thought and passionate feeling all simmering, slow cooking, marinating in Life's humor, romance, pain and joy. This Blog: The Meal. Food for thought....
A good name for the blog?
Sunday, December 27, 2009
What's in a Name?
Tom and Gisele Brady waited 11 Days to name their baby. 11. While I'm sure we'll see the affect of such lack in identity 20 years from now on the pages of US Weekly, or the National Enquirer, for those 11 days, did it matter to the baby? He was fed and burped and loved.
What about this blog? Without a permanent name and a clear focus, I've let it wither to near nothingness. I haven't fed it with clever wit, or nurtured it with continuous sweet thought. No, I've let it shrivel into the endless of abyss long-forgotten empty blogs... It's like my plant at work: I remember to water it only when the leaves have faded to a crispy brown and the sad stems droop onto my desk.
I WANT to remember my plant, just like I WANT to remember this blog. And I do remember, it, but at the most inconvenient times... like when I'm half-asleep with thoughts rumbling through my head like a freight-train that I pretend not to hear and don't want to write down for fear that I'll never fall back asleep! Or when I'm driving and think of the most brilliant bit only to forget it by the time I am able to open my computer.
What this blog needs is a PURPOSE. It needs a reason to exist. And then I will remember to post. Like the book Julie and Julia - she didn't just write about her egomanical narcissistic thoughts. She cooked and wrote. Cooked and wrote. Every day.
And so, I go in search of my blog's purpose. And in the meantime, I will just write drivel when I think of it... au revoir!
What about this blog? Without a permanent name and a clear focus, I've let it wither to near nothingness. I haven't fed it with clever wit, or nurtured it with continuous sweet thought. No, I've let it shrivel into the endless of abyss long-forgotten empty blogs... It's like my plant at work: I remember to water it only when the leaves have faded to a crispy brown and the sad stems droop onto my desk.
I WANT to remember my plant, just like I WANT to remember this blog. And I do remember, it, but at the most inconvenient times... like when I'm half-asleep with thoughts rumbling through my head like a freight-train that I pretend not to hear and don't want to write down for fear that I'll never fall back asleep! Or when I'm driving and think of the most brilliant bit only to forget it by the time I am able to open my computer.
What this blog needs is a PURPOSE. It needs a reason to exist. And then I will remember to post. Like the book Julie and Julia - she didn't just write about her egomanical narcissistic thoughts. She cooked and wrote. Cooked and wrote. Every day.
And so, I go in search of my blog's purpose. And in the meantime, I will just write drivel when I think of it... au revoir!
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Dying of a Broken Heart
I found out yesterday that someone I loved passed away. That's the second death in weeks and since they say it happens in "3s", I'm waiting...
Unfortunately, I don't think my heart can endure more loss - it is still so tender from losing Lillian, ripped open fresh yesterday from losing Phil, and still raw from losing my relationship 6 weeks ago.
I haven't talked about my break-up on this blog, or really anywhere in public. Either to defend the innocent, or to save myself from shame, I just haven't wanted to admit another relationship failure. I also haven't wanted to admit that I miss him... But I do. And in the midst of all this loss, I miss him more. The truth is that I'm dying for a hug. Even a strong, independent woman sometimes needs to be wrapped up and told that everything's going to be okay...
Unfortunately, I don't think my heart can endure more loss - it is still so tender from losing Lillian, ripped open fresh yesterday from losing Phil, and still raw from losing my relationship 6 weeks ago.
I haven't talked about my break-up on this blog, or really anywhere in public. Either to defend the innocent, or to save myself from shame, I just haven't wanted to admit another relationship failure. I also haven't wanted to admit that I miss him... But I do. And in the midst of all this loss, I miss him more. The truth is that I'm dying for a hug. Even a strong, independent woman sometimes needs to be wrapped up and told that everything's going to be okay...
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