A Walking Tour Of Ibiza Town: The All-Natural Way To Get High.
I was going to have a bathroom update for you today, Read the rest of this gem…
There IS A Cure. But It’s Not Going To Be Easy.
So I’ve written about Domestiphobia and how there are certain people in this world Read the rest of this gem…
If Formentera Had Been Gilligan’s Island, I’m Pretty Sure They Never Would Have Tried To Leave.
Some things in this world are beyond even my capability to express in words. Read the rest of this gem…
A Rough Start in Paradise Is Like Getting A Botched Pedicure. No One Feels Sorry For You.
I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve kind of been on a bit of a Spain kick lately. Read the rest of this gem…
Guest Post: Around the Balearic Islands
Dear readers: The following article is a sponsored guest post written about a place I’ve traveled and loved — the Balearic Islands. Since you know I have this terrible habit of quitting my “real” jobs, this post is an example of a way I might try to monetize this blog without introducing a bunch of pop-up videos and floating ads and all of that. I don’t know if this will become a common sight around here, but when I do have sponsored guest posts, I will always let you know that’s what it is in the title. Also, I will do my best to make sure they’re interesting and informative, and I think this one definitely fits the bill. Click “read more” below the photo to read the article.
If you haven’t been to the Balearic Islands, you should add them to your list. I’d go back in a heartbeat!
Ibiza Town
I Will Be Spending the Day in the Neighborhood of Make-Believe. Please Do Not Disturb.
I miss the days of pretend.
When we could lose ourselves in a world of make-believe and it seemed so real.
Let’s try it.
Like… can we pretend that my post from yesterday made a modicum of sense?
Can we pretend that I actually planned where I was headed with that post and somehow managed to successfully tie my Sweeney Todd date story in with how people in a relationship can be different, but that’s okay, as long as you both respect those differences?
Can we pretend that I didn’t flee the house, 10 minutes late for work, knowing that I could have written that better if I’d actually left myself some time?
Can we pretend that I did go back and fix it, and that blemish that will likely exist on my blog until the very end of time (along with many, many others) is just an illusion brought on by lack of sleep or drinking 3 cups of coffee before we’ve had anything to eat?
And while we’re at it, can we pretend I’m still here:
Formentera, Balearic Islands, Spain
Doing this:
Biking is the best way to get yourself around this island. It’s mostly flat. Mostly. And for the parts that aren’t… well… exercise is good for you.
And eating this:
We rented a small apartment just a half-mile bike ride from a tiny grocery store. This breakfast “frittata” is my sister-in-law’s genius concoction of our leftover garlicy pasta noodles, eggs, and whatever else we had left in the fridge.
With these people:
So this is the not-flat part of Formentera. We were exhausted. But it was nothing that a can of Pringles and a spectacular cliff side view couldn’t fix.
Yep.
I think, while assisting realtors in their extremely respected and important line of profession today, I’m going to be doing a lot of pretending.
Ain’t that a Kick in the Head
WordPress, which is the platform I use to modify this blog and host my site, has this thing it calls “Freshly Pressed.” In case you’re unfamiliar, it’s basically a list of highlighted posts from WordPress blogs that, when chosen, get published on the Freshly Pressed page for a day or so.
The cool thing about getting Freshly Pressed is that it can bring thousands of new readers to your site — readers who, with literally millions of blogs to peruse throughout a particularly unproductive work day, often refer to the Freshly Pressed page for the lucky picks the WordPress editors choose to highlight.
Needless to say, ever since I became aware of the phenomenon, I’ve been anxiously awaiting the day when I, too, would get Freshly Pressed and my new wealth of fame and readership would finally — finally — justify why I ever started this thing in the first place. After all, I wanted to be a writer. A surefire sign that I was on the right aspiration path would be to get pressed. That’s what happened to Catherine. And Nate. It happened to Kat twice. So it was perfectly reasonable to think it would one day happen to me as well.
Right?
So I waited.
Maybe it would be one of my food posts.
Okay, so I’m not a cook per se and definitely didn’t create the recipes, but if I don’t share the joys of an orgasm panini with the world, who will?
Maybe it would be one of my DIY home improvement posts.
Okay, so I’m not the first person to tile a backsplash, but this might very well be the only place where, among the slew of detailed, step-by-step how-to photos, you can also see photos of my husband’s butt and learn why the word “caulk” is a homophone.
If it wasn’t going to be any of those things, then it would definitely be a post about one of my trips. Who doesn’t love reading about vacations to Hawaii or 2-month trips to Costa Rica?
Apparently the WordPress editors, that’s who.
Wait — that’s not right. I’ve seen Freshly Pressed blogs on each of those topics, including one almost exactly like my (and Erin’s) post about waterfall rapelling.
My post about waterfall rappelling.
Freshly Pressed post about waterfall rappelling.
So apparently they just don’t like my posts about these topics.
I honestly thought for sure one of my posts about Spain might get pressed. I mean, I realize there wasn’t much writing involved, but I still have some highlights of the trip I’d like to share now that I’m home, and I somehow just knew the editors had my blog on a “watch” list, just waiting for the right post to press and finally give me some sense of validation.
Then, today happened.
I went to the Freshly Pressed home page and saw it — a post someone wrote about their recent trip to the South of Spain.
You have GOT to be kidding me.
It made me want to chuck my computer out the window.
It made me want to punch the wall.
It made me want to cry.
It made me want to quit the blog.
I realize this is a huge show of weakness on my part. I mean, I didn’t start the blog for anyone else, so why do I suddenly care if many people read it?
Then it hit me: I care because this is what I want to do. Write.
I decided while on the trip to Spain that I would attempt to get a “real” job upon our return. Not a “career” job, but something with a steady paycheck that I could manage while still trying to do the writing thing. But still, in the back of my mind, I had this dream that some sign would intervene — one of those epiphanies you read about where some lucky person is handed a clue that tells him — beyond all reasonable doubt — that he’s doing the right thing.
The problem is, I was so intent on looking for affirmation that I failed to accept the obvious signs that maybe I’m not doing the right thing.
Or, maybe I’m concentrating my efforts on the wrong thing.
Or, maybe signs are bullshit.
I don’t know.
But I do know that persistence and grit will only get you so far. After all, continuously spinning the tires will often dig a deeper rut.
So. I’m not quitting the blog. Not even close.
But this is my renewed commitment to myself to try some new venues on the path to becoming an actual writer. You know, like maybe sending some pitches in to various publications. Freelancing for other blogs/writing projects. Starting up a rejection pile. Things people who actually make a living in the industry actually do.
I know — there’s going to be work involved.
I can’t believe it either.
Here are some more Spain pictures if you’re one of those people (like me) who actually likes looking at other peoples’ vacation pictures:
Graffiti near Becca and Brad’s apartment.
Malaga from above.
Malaga market.
Old juxtaposed with the new.
Malaga store window.
Ferry ride with our hosts, Brad and Becca.
Ibiza City.
Lights.
How Spain said goodbye through an airport window.
