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Posts from — October 2009

The 73rd Circle Time: The Show and Tell Weekly Thread

Show and Tell is wasted on elementary schoolers. Join several dozen bloggers weekly to show off an item, tell a story, and get the attention of the class. In other words, this is Show and Tell 2.0. Everyone is welcome to join, even if you have never posted before and just found out about Show and Tell for the first time today. So yank out a photo of the worst bridesmaid’s dress you ever wore and tell us the story; show off the homemade soup you cooked last night; or tell us all about the scarf you made for your first knitting project. Details on how to participate are located at the bottom of this post.

Let’s begin.

At the risk of being stunningly immodest, I would like to declare myself Queen of the Cake. I googled the term “sukkah cake” and “succah cake” and finding only these hits and none of them linking to a project quite like this, I would like to state here and for the record that I AM THE INVENTOR OF THE SUCCAH CAKE.  THE SUKKAH CAKE.  ME.  ME.  ME.

Um…

Well, I thought it was a cool idea.  Because mine doesn’t just look like a sukkah; mine actually follows most of the rules of constructing a sukkah (except with edible items instead of wood and leaves) and a little playmobil character can go inside and shake his lulav.  The only other cakes I could find were either a solid rectangular cake that someone had decorated with icing to look like a sukkah (rather than making a hollow, enter-able, edible house) or the Jewish equivalent to a gingerbread house, with cookie-walls and royal icing creating a structure that co-ops Christian tradition as if Jews are not creative and kick-ass on our own.

Because we are.  And we don’t need no stinkin’ gingerbread because I have invented the sukkah cake.

And I’m sure that people will respond to this post and say, “My Aunt Rivke makes a cake just like that”–but the point is that your Aunt Rivke apparently doesn’t post to the Internet and we all know in the world of peeing on your territory that having a permalink to the idea trumps Aunt Rivke’s extended family knowing about her baking prowess.  So sucks to your Aunt Rivke.

I made this one for Josh’s office with yellow cake and vanilla icing.  I am currently typing out instructions (after many engineering mishaps) on the actual construction of the sukkah cake because while it can be made with just about any flavour cake or icing, the actual work is in the carving of the cake, tweaks you need to make to the cookie roof, and the order of construction.  I learned the hard way that doing things in the wrong order results in cake collapse.

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I strung up jelly beans with thread and a needle to serve as the fruit inside the sukkah.

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Hanging fruit…

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I made some leaves out of icing on the roof to cover up the excess cake needed to support the weight of the roof.

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And then I covered the roof in mint leaves to serve as the s’chach.

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And let the twins go to town on the sides as you would a gingerbread house at Christmas.  Except that gingerbread doesn’t taste very good and my cake rocks.

It is the art project that keeps giving, with the cake discarded in the carving of the structure capable of being turned into smaller and smaller sukkahs.  Next stop: figuring out how to ship said sukkah cake in one piece…

What are you showing today?

Click here or scroll down to the bottom of this post if this is your first time joining along (Important: link to the permalink for the post, not the main url for your blog and use your blog’s name, not your name. Links not going to a Show and Tell post will be deleted). The list is open from now until late Friday night and a new one is posted every week.

Other People Standing at the Head of the Class:

Want to bring something to Show and Tell?
  • If you would like to join circle time and show something to the class, simply post each Wednesday night (or any time between Wednesday morning and Friday night), hopefully including a picture if possible, and telling us about your item. It can be anything–a photo from a trip, a picture of the dress you bought this week, a random image from an old yearbook showing a person you miss. It doesn’t need to contain a picture if you can’t get a picture–you can simply tell a story about a single item. The list opens every Wednesday night and closes on Friday night.
  • You must mention Show and Tell and include a link back to this post in your post so people can find the rest of the class. This spreads new readership around through the list. This is now required.
  • Label your post “Show and Tell” each week and then come back here and add the permalink for the post via the Mr. Linky feature (not your blog’s main url–use the permalink for your specific Show and Tell post).
  • Oh, and then the point is that you click through all of your classmates and see what they are showing this week. And everyone loves a good “ooooh” and “aaaah” and to be queen (or king) of the playground for five minutes so leave them a comment if you can.
  • Did you post a link and now it’s missing?: I reserve the right to delete any links that are not leading to a Show and Tell post or are the blogging equivalent of a spitball.

October 7, 2009   35 Comments

All the Blogging Advice I Have to Give

Here is all the advice I have to pass along about building blog traffic or getting people to write about your product in one not-quite-succinct post.

This post may negate the comment from yesterday where I was told that I have the patience of a saint (thank you, IF Crossroads!), but I can say with absolute certainty that I have found the worst PR firm in the world and I can’t stand them.  I would name them, but I honestly don’t want to give them even negative traffic.  For the last few months, they have been emailing me several times a week–sometimes several times a day–asking me to hawk pregnancy and baby products.

Perhaps they didn’t catch that part where I said that I’m infertile.

Actually, the part they’re missing is the “relations” part of public relations.  They are doing nothing to form a relationship with me and therefore, they are getting no response from me.

The FTC updated their guide this week stating that bloggers will be fined $11,000 per post if they do not disclose payment (monetary or itemwise) from a company.  In other words, if Colgin sent me a bottle of their delicious vegan Worcestershire sauce and asked me to write about it, I better make sure that I mention that Colgin sent me a free bottle of sauce*.  And these guidelines are going to make it even harder for PR firms to get bloggers to write about their products because…damn it…people are going to be forced to think about what they’re doing and saying.

My policy, as I state on my About Me page, is that I don’t do reviews.  This is why: the first time someone sent me a pitch, I was so excited.  And then they started coming 10 or so a day.  And now it’s hitting 50 or so a day.  50 or so times a day, I receive an email telling me that they have a wonderful beef-jerky-educational-toy-weight-loss-pill-fertility-test that they just know I’d love to write about.  They are certain that I’m the right person to write about their product, yet they seem to have missed the part on my straightforward “about me” page where I state that I don’t do reviews.

Public relation firms: this is a problem.  Your message is not being heard because you’re not actually building relationships with people, making sure you have their ear (and the proper ear at that), and then asking for the favour.  You are not even getting me to open your emails anymore therefore, you’re not only wasting your time, but you’re building bad blood when you flood my inbox in a spam-like nature.

I realized today that there are a lot of similarities between the tactics publicists should take if they want people to write about their product and the tactics bloggers should take if they want people to read their blog.  Because in both cases, you have an item that you want people to see.  And therefore, since I am asked not only to write about products I would never use, but people often ask me for tips on getting someone to visit their blog, I decided to write this handy, albeit long, guide of all the tips I have to pass along after over three years of blogging.  And just to be clear: though I am clearly annoyed when strangers ask me to hawk their product, I’m never annoyed when people ask how to connect with community or build readership or when a friend connects with me and asks for my help with their project.  This guide shouldn’t shut down the building readership conversation nor should regular blog readers and friends think this means that they can’t ask me to post about their etsy on LFCA.

And to start, let’s just get this out in the open, when people ask me this question, what they really want to know is what are the shortcuts–so I’m writing this first to say that there are no shortcuts.

I mean, yes, there are, but the shortcuts are uncontrollable. The point of a tipping point is that if there was a single formula, we’d all use it and there would cease to be a tipping point. So, let’s all agree that there are no shortcuts, and if that’s the only answer you’re looking for, I’d click away because the rest of this post is pointless. The idea of this post is that you’re going to have to do a little work and earn your traffic or attention. I know…bummer.

(1) Write good content: good content is subjective. I personally like reading about what someone ate for lunch, even though that is held as an example as the kiss-of-death of blogging topics. Therefore, stop trying to write something you don’t want to write and just go with your gut, with what interests you, with the types of posts you’d want to read. Really, I promise you, there are like-minded people out there who will come to read it AND people are drawn to a genuine voice.  In the same vein, if you’re a publicist, represent a good product.  If you wouldn’t pay money to buy it yourself, do not ask other people to spend their money on it.  See how these two things are related?  Don’t write things you wouldn’t want to read yourself and don’t sell things you wouldn’t want to buy yourself.  Simple.

(2) Drama does not count as good content: you may see a spike in traffic if you write something to provoke others, but once the brouhaha dies down, you will see those same readers disappear. It’s sort of the Aliza Shvarts effect. Don’t remember her name? I don’t blame you–she had her 15 minutes of enraging people and now no one cares about what she has to say. That’s sort of the problem with self-created drama–people quickly stop listening, even if you have other things to say down the line.  And publicists, if you keep spamming a person, that’s the equivalent to building drama.  You might provoke a reaction, but I promise you, it’s not the one you want.

(3) Get involved: the more involved you are, the more traffic you’ll likely see. And involved is jumping in and joining the game, not playing another game on the same court. What do I mean by that?  Well, let’s use this as an example: some people start reading blogs, leave comments regarding what is written on the post, and hope that people will see that they have left a thoughtful comment and come over to read their blog. That’s joining the game. Then there are those who start reading blogs, leave comments asking people to check out their blog, and wonder why no one stops by. That’s like going on a basketball court where everyone is playing basketball and starting to play football with the hope that people will join you.  And publicists, read the “about me” page.  Get involved by getting to know the people you’re asking to write about your product.

(4) Get involved, part two: a low-level of involvement would be adding yourself to a blogroll. A higher level of involvement would be joining an activity like IComLeavWe. An even higher level of involvement would be to set up a blog reader with blogs you like and read them regularly and comment from time to time. And to keep adding new blogs and expanding your world.  Publicists, do you really need me to hold your dick on this one?  Take a page from book agents who build solid relationships with certain publishers and then get that publisher’s ear when they have a book to sell.  Don’t spam every blogger–pick and choose the ones who are a good fit for the types of products you represent and build a relationship with those people.

(5) Just for bloggers: wait, you’re still writing good content, right?: it’s a lot of plates to spin at once, but in order to build traffic, you need to write your own blog, and read and comment on others AT THE SAME TIME. Which means that if you stop writing for long periods of time, expect that you’ll see a fall in traffic.

(6) Be okay with having loyal readers over a lot of readers: people get so hung up on keeping up with the blogging Joneses that they sort of miss the part where they have people interested in what they have to say and then get too cranky about the whole experience to write. You may never have one million readers a day, but 10 loyal readers who care about what you have to say is better than one million people who skim your words. Blogging is about making a connection–all art is about making a connection. Not numbers.  And the same is true for a product.  It’s better to have 10 loyal people buying your peanut butter week after week after week.  Those loyal people are going to do more for your product long-term than the fickle ones who pick up your peanut butter one week and never buy it again.

(7) Get people to link to you: this is usually out of your hands–people simply read something on your blog and decide to link to it from their own and that drives traffic your way. You can’t control that. You can use resources like LFCA if you’re in the infertility community, but here’s the fact about links: people only click on them if they’re interested. I had someone who wanted me to list their blog project weekly in the LFCA and while I can do that for them, they’ll see the most clicks the first time they do it because people are curious. And they’ll see considerably fewer clicks each subsequent time unless people feel a connection towards that blogger or project. For instance, people will click over for news coming from someone involved with community. Sometimes they won’t if they don’t know the name. Which is a long way of saying that links are nice, but they rarely bring the permanent traffic you’re craving.  And this is true for all products as well.  It’s fine and dandy to have someone link to your product, but unless the words leading up to that link can pique interest or build enthusiasm, it’s unlikely that people will click over.

(8) This one is solely for businesses–purchase ad space, do some homework, and try not to piss off people before you’ve asked for your favour: Can I just repeat that I get about 50 PR requests per day. Per day. People wanting me to review their product or spread word about their cause. It doesn’t matter whether or not I want to help because if I spent all of my time fulfilling the wishes of PR people, I would have no traffic because people don’t want to read about beef jerky and financial guides and whatever else people are hawking. Therefore, as I said, I put a blanket statement on my blog: I do not accept any PR requests. And still, they keep coming.

If PR people (or anyone with a business) wants to get a better response, try this: purchase ad space on a few key blogs in the community you wish to reach. Let people become familiar with your name and product so when you ask your favour, they know that you’ve been hanging out around the community for a bit. Consider it like squirrel monkeys peeing against a tree and having all the other squirrel monkeys recognize your scent (this analogy assumes that you are a squirrel monkey).

Then approach a few blogs, making sure you have done your homework and you’re a good match. Then ask them for the favour, admitting that you know that you’re asking for a favour and don’t try to make it sound like you’re giving them something great. And understand that they need to disclose that you approached them and asked them to write the post and paid them with a product.  And don’t approach me because you’ve already ruined it with me.  But there are plenty of other bloggers out there who are still open-minded and this approach would probably do wonders to get them to support your product or cause.

(9) Back to bloggers–number one piece of advice held until item 9–don’t quit: the number one reason why people don’t build blog traffic is that they don’t realize that the blogosphere ebbs and flows and that building traffic is about sticking around and being a solid presence. Don’t get frustrated if it takes a long time to build traffic. As I stated in the beginning, there are no shortcuts. It will take time and hard work and community participation to find your niche and see your ideas pass to other people. But if you’ve read to the bottom of this post, I’m fairly certain that you’re the type who will make that happen rather than walking away still wondering where the wormhole is that will take you to one million visitors overnight.

What other advice would you add for people wishing to build blog traffic or for business owners looking to have bloggers review their product?  What do people have to do in order to get your attention, hold your interest, or return to their blog over and over again?

*Colgin has never sent me a free bottle of sauce, but they bring endless amusement whenever we make Caesar salad and I whisper to Josh, “the world has been waiting for a delicious, hickory-smoked vegan option.”  I used them as my example because I truly love the gluten-free, kosher pareve, no animal by-products smokey goodness.

October 6, 2009   69 Comments

Blogroll Complete

Please tell me it’s pretty.

I finished hand-erasing html code off of 2000+ entries on the blogroll.  If not, the blogroll had strange spacing and blogs were hidden (meaning: the url was there, but there were no words to link it to, so I could see it in draft, but no one could see it once I published it.  So it really was necessary to fix this). So go poke around and check out the new numbering feature on all the subsections so you can tell how many people are in a category.

And while you’re there, you can thank Josh who sat beside me through most of it watching Across the Universe on continual play because he is that patient with me.  And he only mentioned once or twice when we heard Joe Anderson sweetly croon “A Little Help From My Friends” that it takes 19 times of hearing Joe Anderson sweetly croon “A Little Help From My Friends” to fix the blogroll.  Thank you, Josh, for enduring.  And thank you, Joe Anderson, for providing the music.

It was like a really good eyebrow plucking, where it’s a pain-in-the-ass to make the appointment and have someone put hot wax on your face and RIP OFF YOUR HAIR FOR THE LOVE OF G-D WHY DID ANYONE THINK THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA?  But…er…then you leave the salon and you feel so clean and neat and orderly.

First request: if you have a link to the blogroll on your sidebar, please change it to the new space: https://www.stirrup-queens.com/a-whole-lot-of-blogging-brought-to-you-sorted-and-filed/.

And now, I can add people again.  Second request: if you write me in the future about moving your blog to a new subsection, please let me know where your blog is located (as in: “hey Mel, I’m #34 in male factor”).  If you don’t know where you are, put your blog name in quotes (as in: “Stirrup Queens”) in the search feature on the left sidebar.  See that?  Under the ads where it says “search this site?”  It will bring up the page of the blogroll that contains your blog.

In case you care, the number of blogs in each room: adoption (223), loss (171), child-free (10), donor gametes and surrogacy (130), pg and parenting (509), general IF (274), diagnoses (336), miscellaneous (89), and situation (294)=2036 blogs.

Now back to you telling me that it’s so pretty and neat that it’s making your own eyebrows feel like a Costa Rican rain forest.  Not to even mention the state of your nether regions…

Finishing it was most definitely a perfect moment.  Sigh.

October 5, 2009   36 Comments

This is Where the Wild Things Are

Once upon a time, there was a little girl whose mother wouldn’t let her read Where the Wild Things Are.

Wait, scratch that.

Once upon a time, there was a woman whose husband wouldn’t allow her to see the movie Where the Wild Things Are.

One last try:

Once upon a time, there was a person who had people in her life who loved her dearly and knew how easily her imagination could be led into troublesome areas and therefore kept her corralled from the world of wild things.

Until she encountered Tzippy in a shuk in Israel, somewhere between an olive cart and the fishmonger.

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My mother would never let us own a copy of Where the Wild Things Are, possibly due to the fact that even without the book, I’d sit in my closet and imagine the wall between my sister and my room melting, leading the two of us into our own specially designed Wonderland (because really, when kids fall into magical lands, aren’t they always designed to teach that particular kid an optimal amount of life lessons?). And I’d cry when it didn’t happen after three hours of sitting crouched underneath my pants and dresses.

I was the type of child who closed herself into wardrobes, opened my door each day hoping to see a magic tollbooth or looked for rabbit holes. I didn’t just want to join storybook characters in their worlds; I wanted to be a character in my own world. I would ride my bike three streets over and sit inside the tangle of bushes someone had planted in the center of the cul-de-sac and wait for the ground to open so I could fall into my adventure.

Therefore, you could hardly blame my mother in wanting to spare herself late night visits from me while she tried to watch Dallas by closing off one of those possible worlds; especially one with nightmare potential in the form of monsters gnashing their teeth. While we had the book in the school library and I saw it at friend’s houses, Maurice Sendak’s drawings never darkened the corners of my bookshelf.

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When I was fourteen-years-old, I went over to Israel without my parents. Our rabbi was going over there and he offered to take a handful of kids with him and somehow I convinced my parents that this was a fantastic idea even though I had never traveled without them.

On the first night, after being served a sad meal of asparagus soup, my roommates bonding without me down the hall, I sat alone in my hotel room and cried. I was halfway across the world, jet lagged and alone. I made a collect call home and my sister answered, somewhat confused as to how I could be this homesick under 24 hours from when we last saw each other at the airport. It is hard to be away from home and know that life is continuing comfortably on without you when you are stuck in a land you don’t really yet understand.

Towards the end of the trip, after I had hooked up with a not-yet-baking Duff Goldman of Ace of Cakes (as well as…cough…a few other boys on the trip…cough), survived Masada, and snorkeled in the pouring rain in Eilat, I had built up enough swagger to tell my new friends that I was going to haggle in Shuk Ha’Carmel. I set my sights on a copy of Where the Wild Things Are–Eretz Y’tzoori Ha’pehreh–the perfect book to sum up my false bravado leaving for the trip, what I encountered once I reached my destination, and how that love drove me back home.

I walked by the table and looked at the book for a moment, thumbing through the pages and holding it casually from my fingertips as if I couldn’t tell whether I wanted to buy it or chuck it at the stall owner like a discus. “Kamah?” I inquired about the price.

When he told me the number, even though it was incredibly inexpensive for a picture book, I blew my bangs up in mock surprise and dropped the book back on the table. I walked away from the stall. Step one.

The man called out to me several questions and I ignored him, waving my hand over my shoulder. Step two.

I bought something else and walked back past his stall so he could see that I was obviously happy to spend some money even if I wasn’t happy with his prices. He called out to me again and this time, I walked back to the table and started the true haggling, getting the book over under half of what he had asked for it the first time.

As I carried my book away from the table, I felt like Max calling for the start of the wild rumpus.

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When we finally had a pregnancy progress beyond the first few weeks, Josh would lie in the bed with a stethoscope we had borrowed, trying to hear the twins’ heartbeats. He listened to my food digesting, the flow of blood through my veins. He wanted to read them stories, play them music, not because he wanted to give them a leg up intellectually, filling their developing minds with Beethoven or Shakespeare, but because he wanted them to know us. Parents who go through infertility know there is always a chance that the time you have with them may be the only time you get to have with them. You don’t waste it waiting for the future.

So he read to them in Hebrew, from the copy of Where the Wild Things Are that I haggled for in the shuk, his mouth centimeters from my injection-bruised belly, his voice cracking as he told them: “oh please don’t go–we’ll eat you up–we love you so.”

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I was posed the question recently which character in the book I would most want to be trapped with and why. I picked Tzippy, the wavy-haired wild thing who reaches her hands out with frustration as Max escapes in his boat. Not only could we trade hair tips for our equally long curly locks, her teaching me how she tames the frizziness and me teaching her how to twist it in an elegant knot, but because I understand that stance, of watching someone go, unable to stop their departure or bring them back.

When I look at the book head-on, I see a tale of a boy who is pissed at his mother and pretends that he is anywhere but there, but realizes as he skates too close to independence, that it is a scary world and we all simply want to be home, with a warm meal waiting for us despite our behaviour.

But when I look at the text and pictures out of the corner of my eye, I see the wild things–I see infertile men and women who have waited so long for a child to come and start the wild rumpus, only to see the person they’ve waited for disappear. Or not come at all.

The wild things, after all, are terribly misunderstood. They don’t gnash their teeth and roll their eyes out of hate. They do this out of love. Out of a love that comes from an enormous well of pain because life–as well as our love–is so deeply out of our control. If the wild things actually had the power to stop Max, they would have. But like too many of us know, we can shake our fist at the world all we want, and it can’t bring back what is missing; what has never come.

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Despite my daughter’s over-active imagination–one that rivals mine from childhood–we read to them from Where the Wild Things Are. And, as my mother predicted, we have dealt with the middle-of-the-night wakings of monsters roaring their terrible roars. Yet during the day, as they flank either side of me on the sofa, it feels worth the nightmares at night.

We recently took the twin to see their first movie, Ponyo, an anime version of the Little Mermaid. Before the movie began, the preview for Spike Jonze’s Where the Wild Things Are came up on the screen. And even though there is nothing sad in the preview, even though I was there in the theater to see a movie about a fish-girl with the twins, I started bawling when the words flashed across the screen: in all of us is hope. And truly, without that hope, how could the wild things keep going after Max is gone? Isn’t hope the energy that keeps us putting one foot in front of the other rather than throwing ourselves into the ocean? And how incredibly grateful am I for hope when I see where I am now?

Josh rubbed my arm, mouthed to me that there was no way he was going to let me see the movie if I reacted this emotionally to a two-minute preview. But honestly, closing that door can’t keep out the wild things. I’ve learned that lesson well enough by now.

October 3, 2009   55 Comments

The 158th Friday Blog Roundup

Since I dragged my ass and all of your asses over to this new space, it seems fitting to jump into utilizing some of the features that brought me to self-hosting.  Yet for some unknown reason, both Josh and the Wolvog both refused to record me tooting away on the Irish Penny Whistle.  Josh muttered something about it being “painful” to listen to and that I shouldn’t subject others to this misery and the Wolvog simply scoffed at my inability to work the recording equipment on the Mac.  He has a point–you know, the fact that I’m asking a five-year-old for computer help.

So I decided to go with a song I got this week instead, except you’re not seeing the fancy audio player Lindsay and I finally got working due to a long, sordid tale of doubt.  So my first audio file will be another week and I will return to using the technology completely available to me at the old site simply because I love this version of the song and want to talk about it.

When I got back from West Virginia, it was grey and raining.  My brother gave me a disc that I didn’t listen to until many nights later; it was simply John Lennon with a tape recorder set atop his piano.  I started bawling when I hit this song:

I know he is singing about Yoko Ono, and certainly, when I’ve heard this song in the past, I have applied it to Josh, but there is something in this version, perhaps it’s the starkness and simplicity, that made me wonder if he was also singing about his sons.  After all, think about how many years all of us have collectively spent dormant, waiting for that “you.”

When the song is stylized and synthesized, it’s easy to forget that it was written by a very real person, someone who lived in an apartment in New York City, who set a tape recorder atop a piano to get down the tune before he forgot it.  A messy individual with a prior marriage and first son; a new wife and second son.  And that all those people got left behind when he died, the carrier of all of that real love.

Please tell me that you cried too when you listened to the song.

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So the move has been anything but smooth.  Lindsay could probably give you a better play-by-play because I’ve mentally blocked out about three hours or so of the time dedicated to lying on my side and crying, “this is too hard.”

This is my best advice to you: the moment you start considering the move to self-hosting, start the move.  You can move slowly, building the site over weeks or months, but don’t wait over three years like I did because moving after that much time provides a unique problem: the blog was simply too big to move.

It would be like bringing pieces of wood into your current home, building a huge cabinet, and then deciding to move to a new place.  The wood came into your house in planks, but now you’re trying to carry it out as a huge finished product and it simply can’t fit through the door frame.  Which is what happened when we tried to export the posts and comments–the file was too big to transfer.

It took about 10 hours or so of work to move it over.  And that was just moving the written posts and comments from point A to point B.  Yes, if we had started with the process that finally ended up working, it could have been a two hour ordeal, but instead, we started with the most likely process and worked our way back to more desperate measures, one time even hand-deleting 1310 files.  Mind-numbing.

The first night we moved into the house we’re in now, I remember sitting on the floor of the kitchen, surrounded by boxes, and crying over the phone to my friend that I had made a terrible mistake.  In those first days, when I didn’t know where anything was and things worked differently from the appliances in my old apartment and new simply sucked because it was new and unknown, all I had were regrets.

And now, I can see the advantages of owning a home vs. renting an apartment, even if home-owning is not a perfect, idyllic experience.  There are a lot of things I see as a disadvantage to home-ownership, but even with those disadvantages, there are clearly more benefits to owning your space rather than renting whether it’s the creativity or stability.

I am still figuring out things with the new site.  I’m obviously still recoding the blogroll rooms.  I know that the site looks different on older versions of Internet Explorer vs. the latest IE or Firefox.  The old header is going to be used in the future on the blogroll pages (I can customize different pages to have different headers–yay, self hosting!).  But I am slowly becoming more and more comfortable over here.  And yes, I dare say it, I think I’m a little bit in love.

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The Weekly What If: What if you could enter the world of any children’s storybook (as in, travel to the land of the wild things, fall down a rabbit hole into Wonderland, or hang out with the Whangdoodle), where would you go?  And would that answer change if you were not going to meet up with the main character while you were there (in other words, you’d go to Wonderland, but you’d never bump into Alice)?

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And now, the blogs…

AnxiousMum has a post called “Too Much Love” about the desire to store away love until it is needed rather than experience that sensation of having too much love spilling over in all directions and no location to place it.  She writes: “It was specially formulated and designed for a little person who was going to enter my life. When they didn’t, the love didn’t dissipate into thin air, as it should have. Instead, now I’m hungry for more people to love and I’m desperate to give my love away.”  It’s just a lovely post about something that so many of us have felt.

Inanna Journey has a post about a disappearing line on a pee stick, a terrible mind-fuck to receive a “yes” and then suddenly learn that it is now a “no.”  It is a heart-breaking post, an exchange between husband and wife, and I wanted to hug her through the screen.

Our Journey, but Not Our Plan has a post about feeling lost.  She writes about being in a perpetual state of waiting: “I feel like I am on my own. I have nothing to talk about of any interest. Me, waiting on AF, isn’t really a conservation starter.”  It is a simple post about life on hold.

Lastly, A Greater Yes has a tongue-in-cheek post about what she could have spent her money on instead of a chance for parenthood.  It’s easy to spend money when you know that the cash forked over will bring you what you want.  But what about when you end up, as she says, with “an envelope clutch purse than an envelope of paid receipts.”

The roundup to the Roundup: have a cathartic moment with Lennon, much ado about moving, the Weekly What If, and lots of great posts to read.  You know where to find me this weekend–recoding the blogroll rooms…

October 2, 2009   16 Comments

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