Careening Toward the Big 3-0-0

They don't like me
I just know it
But I'd be happy
Just to get along

— Lyle Lovett, 'They Don't Like Me'
from his 1995 album 'I Love Everybody'

As I draw nigh to my 300th post, I again wax philosophical about blogging. Are my reasons for blogging now different than the reasons I began? What have I learned? And the oft-recurring question of late: should I continue?

I enjoyed a successful 34-year career as a graphic designer/public relations person. Writing has always been part of my job, but I was ready to steer myself more sharply in that direction. Upon the advice of a career counselor, I began this blog as a platform. Subsequently, I shifted to a staff writing position at my company. Now they pay me to write all day long: communications to our sales force, training and advertising materials, speeches, and, as of last week, corporate blogging. My original reason to blog no longer exists.

I had no idea what to expect when I ventured into the blogosphere. I wrote happily in a vacuum for quite a while before I received any comments. Once I did, despite my mantra of 'art for art's sake', over time, I became hooked on comments. Oh, admit it — you are, too.

Like any other addiction, this one exacts a toll. It began subtly enough. I'd craft my posts, choose photos, continue to tweak (and tweak and tweak) even after I published. If I posted in the morning, as I often do, I'd go about my business and be jonesing for the goodies when I went back online at the end of the day. Don't bogart those comments, my friend, pass them over to me ...

What I've learned about myself is that I am not too old or too confident to regress to long dormant high school emotions of feeling inadequate and rejected. There are times when I allow this silly blog to validate me. A rejection letter received by author Anne Lamott comes to mind: "You have made the mistake of thinking that everything that has happened to you is interesting." I have to remind myself that what happens (or doesn't) on this blog is not a reflection of who I am, the quality of my life, my skills as a writer or a horse person, or my value in any way whatsoever.

I hope the reality is something other than a statement of popularity, possibly borne out in my own habits. I work 40 hours a week, and commute an hour each way. I still have a home, 5 acres, a husband, 3 dogs, 2 cats, and 2 horses to keep, and all the chores that go with that like laundry, cooking, grocery shopping, and as little cleaning as I can get away with. During the week, I only get to spend a few minutes a day with my horses to feed them. I live for weekends. I don't even try to keep up with my blogroll every day. I may glance at a few each morning and evening, but normally, I try to read and comment on every blog on my list (at least once) on the weekend. I don't hang out on the computer for too long. I only post 2-3 times a week. If I hope to have something even semi-interesting (to me, anyway) to blog about, I have to get out there and actually DO stuff, not veg online all say.

I'm no mugs. My adventures can't begin to compare with Mikey (heck, nobody's can), Lisa, or Esther. Most of you have forgotten more than I'll ever know about horses. Still, like everyone else, my life is what it is. Some days it's more engaging than others. Mr. Fry and I often joke that 'boring is good," because that means no drama, no crises, no vet or medical emergencies, no money we have to pull out of our butts. But it also means vanilla blog fodder.

I love the connection with other horse people that I get from this blog. Aside from Heather's family and my friend Kristen, I don't have that in real life. I learn from those more experienced than myself and on a rare occasion, I'm able to contribute useful advice from my own limited experience. I also like that this blog is a chronicle of my non-adventures that I use to remind myself of how far I've come. Besides that, I crack myself up sometimes. I'm such a goober.

Will I continue? I will make that decision Bird by Bird.