I recently became aware, through Twitter, of a lady who writes a blog about about Canberra called, “In the Taratory”. Blogs, believe it or not are not really my cup of tea I find most of them quite dull as I’m sure most people who don’t know me from a bar of soap find mine.
For me this blog is merely an escape, a valve to release some creative tension, and perhaps to let those who know me find out more about me than they may actually be able to in person as I am not the most sociable cat in the world. In fact I find it quite hard to make and maintain friends and feel much more at home writing my prose and telling my own story as it happens, recording events or thoughts here on the Internet for all to see. Linda, my partner has often said she reads my blog to find out what is going on in my life!
I decided to follow the aforementioned lady on Twitter, not because I find her blog particularly outstanding but because, as she is a Canberran she often has some useful information about what is going on in the Capital and this is why I find social media and Twitter in particular very useful.
The other day a link came up from her account which pointed bloggers like me towards the Australian Writer’s Centre where they hold an annual competition to find Australia’s best Blogs. I momentarily felt the urge to enter and try my luck but as usual that weening feeling in the back of my stomach, the lump in the throat, the self conscious loathing and latent inferiority complex which occasionally blights my personality came to the fore and I never bothered with it.
All day at work as I ploughed through the hours, moment by moment, lost in the trance like state which passes for thought, the self protection mode we find ourselves in to combat mental fatigue, I cursed myself for not biting the bullet and putting myself in contention in the Blog contest.
The main reason which initially brought caution to my mind in regards to entry are the occasional incendiary posts I have written in regard to my employer.
These days I resist naming the corporation I work for although a quick search through my blog would find their signature pretty quickly and even some of the descriptions of my occupation would lead most people of an average intelligence to discern exactly what I do every week when I am required to attend that dastardly retreat on “Desolation Island”.
As I said, I refrain these days from naming names although my own moniker is pride of place at the top of this page and although I am sure the judges of said contest aren’t into getting people into trouble one never knows who may read this tome as a result of further integration into the online community which may lead to the powers that be at my work location taking a very dim view of some of the comments I have made in regard to their performance and competence.
So, as the day wore on I chewed on my reluctance and slowly but surely swallowed it and digested it and by the end of the shift I had decided to throw caution to the wind and enter the contest. Worry be damned thought I. Who among the literary community and likelies who would read my blog would think the recording of the frustrations of a working environment were something to keelhaul a fellow for and I was sure by the time the magic chimes sounded to signal the end of the day that I was ready to throw my hat in the ring in the annual Blog skirmish thrown by the Writer’s Centre.
Alas, twas’ not to be.
I returned home full of vim and vigour ready to expose my product to the full glare of the literary community. Quickly logging onto my Twitter account I found the Tweet concerned from the “In the Taratory” blog and rediscovered the link to the Writer’s Centre. Scouring the page looking for where I enter I soon discovered a dismaying fact. Entries had closed at 5pm. I was five hours too late!
In a way I felt relieved. Not because I was worried about getting into trouble for what I had written. I really couldn’t care less what happens in that regard. Dismissing me from my employment would be doing me a favour. The relief came from the fact that those who I feel are my cultural superiors could not sit in judgement. Could not decide if I was good or bad. In my own world I could remain king. I breathed a sigh of relief. I had successfully thwarted making something of myself again. But I almost succeeded in entering the contest in spite of myself. Only my self serving vacillation had saved me this time.
I took it upon myself to check out the winners from the last couple of years. There is an overall winner and several “category” winners. I must say I wasn’t impressed with too many of them. As noted before I am not a great Blog reader but those who won the share of the prizes apparently have plenty of followers. Blogs which seemed to be nothing more than incoherent muddle emanating from mundane lives seemed to invigorate the judges who offered glowing review praising the writing and presentation of these Blogs for all to see. Perhaps it’s just me. Perhaps I cannot see the beauty or humour in these things At least they are out there having a go. Doing as I am doing. Perhaps I should be kinder and try harder to smell the roses.
Perhaps next year I will do what should have been done this year. Enter my Blog and hope for the best. Realistically I would never stand a chance. There are too many Blogs and too many people far more talented than I entered for me to make a dent. But that is beside the point. Having a go should be the name of the game and competing for the fun of it the motto which should be proclaimed. Next year, I will certainly enter the competition.
Which brings me to my last point for the night. I know there are a few regular readers who peruse this space. Very few. But I am certainly open to suggestions on how to improve my Blog, either through content, design or writing. All constructive criticism is welcome. Don’t hesitate to drop me a line if you feel you have something to offer. All suggestions will be considered.
Now I will sign off and do my final chores for the night and shower and get ready for bed for the Easter bunny makes his return tonight and I must be up early tomorrow to prepare for lunchtime visitors. Family and friends. The only way to enjoy this time of year.
So to all who may be reading I offer my greetings and best wishes on this most sacred of weekends for Christians and hope, wherever you are you too enjoy Easter with those you most love.
Happy Easter.
Strange Notations From a Laborious Life 