Monday, 2 July 2012

On Finding Your Voice, Blogopolis, and Cabana Boys

Last Saturday I spoke at Blogopolis on a panel called "Finding Your Own Voice And Staying Relevant." I hate everything I said and wish I could have a do-over. Ironically, even as I was talking, the voices at the back of my head were saying, "You're sounding like an idiot! Who do you think you are! Shut-up!" That's the thing about using your voice - you're consistently wondering whether you're allowed to use your voice.

      Not scary at all

We all blog differently. There's no right or wrong way. I was asked to talk about using my voice so I did, but I never meant to make it sound like my way was the right way. It isn't. If I were to start my blog again today I would do a heap of things differently. The recent mainstream crossover of social media in Australia has heated quite a few things up. We live in interesting times. Blogging is still, in many ways, an even playing field. I like that. I like that more and more people are finding their voices - especially women.

A few great Blogopolis recaps:

The Tortoise and the Rising Star from Suger Coat It
What Opportunities Can Blogging Open Up For You? by Nikki at Styling You
Branding Your Blog from Nicole at Planning With Kids
Being a Newbie from Belinda at Billy and August
Spoon Porn and Other Adventures at Blogopolis from Five Frogs Blog

In other news, I wrote a piece in this weeks Grazia Magazine, on what it was like when my husband got cancer a few days before our second child was born.

Dave read it, and didn't even flinch about me saying I used to have daydreams about running off with a cabana boy.

In more other news, I'm sick with the flu and can hardly keep my head up to write this post. We're at our beach house on the Central Coast and it has no heating. I'm cold, tired, and miserable. And in a strange twist of fate, completely alone. The boys are at Dave's mums and Dave went back to work for a few days. I just ate porridge at 4pm and now I'll aimlessly search the internet for hours to keep my intense panic at bay. Maybe even look at some porn. MOMMY PORN.

Having a beach house sounds way exotic but in reality it's this tiny fibro cottage that we Dave is going to renovate. I call it the beach bong house, because the previous owner grew and smoked a LOT of wacky weedus in here .. the whole place smells like hash cones. It's quite nice. I keep subliminally buying Orchy orange juice.

How's your Spirit, right here right now? You want to come over and watch mommy porn with me?

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Write to be understood, speak to be heard. - Lawrence Powell

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