Through The Looking Glass

During a routine search I came across a website for a cattle ranch that offers, among other things, semen and embryos.

I’m not so down with the labels. I’m not affiliated with a political party (though this post is not about politics); I’m not a member of any subculture, not matter how much I enjoy their music; and I don’t consider this a mommy blog, or any other kind of blog besides the personal kind.

About two years ago I started to notice people talking about “building [their] brand.” This is a marketing term and it is my opinion that it should stay in marketing. Your brand is what you’re known for, and is what makes you recognizable. There are a lot of people for whom it makes sense — actors, for example. But I am sick and tired of hearing all about it in blogland.

Maybe this is asshole-y of me, but I think the mommy bloggers are to blame. Have a kid, feel disenfranchised, find a way to feel important again: building your brand! Or, I don’t know, anyone could have started it. Doesn’t matter. The fact is that people see blogs like Dooce making hundreds of thousands of dollars a year and they want it to happen to them, so they follow all these guides that are out there (written, by the way, by people who are not making hundreds of thousands of dollars from their blogs) advising you to build your brand and find a focus and market yourself to advertisers.

I have advertising on this blog. You want to know what it pays? Less than a dollar a day. I am seriously considering taking it down tomorrow, only then I’d have to pay hosting and domain registrar fees out of pocket again, and I have very shallow pockets. It’s conceivable that if I found a singular focus for this blog and worked on building my brand, I’d make more money. But you know, fuck that. I’d like to make money doing something I’m good at, not pretending to be something I’m not. (I am not and have never been even the tiniest bit focused.)

I wrote this morning on Twitter:

I’m just going to say it: I don’t have a brand and I don’t want a brand. If this means I’ll never be an internet superstar, THANK GOD.

My friend Jonathan (who is an actor, and therefore one of the folks for whom I think branding makes some sense) replied:

um, hate to tell you, you are a brand. And a very good one.

Which is kind, but I disagree. I don’t want to market myself. I am a person, not a product. But I do think I am a pretty good one.

South Korea has upheld a law that allows only the blind to work as masseurs.

Now that Halloween is almost here I am very busy freaking the fuck out about the coming holidays and how incredibly fucking soon they are and how very, very much I have to do in preparation and how I am going to find any time at all to relax and enjoy myself and OMG.

Thank goodness I have the world’s most kickass sister and she made our Halloween costumes. You can see part of mine above. It is awesome.

I have figured out Sam’s endgame in refusing to speak English for so long. It is no small coincidence that he also refused to sleep decently for so long. The two certainly go together in his nefarious plotting. He knew that if we got used to him only speaking gibberish and pointing at whatever he wanted instead of asking for it, and if we got used to never ever sleeping at all ever, we would be PUTTY IN HIS HANDS whenever he got around to bothering with this talking and sleeping stuff.

FOR INSTANCE, if he were to start sleeping through the night, waking only at 5:00 or maybe 6:00 for a little milk, and one morning I were to say, after 20 minutes or so of nursing, “That’s enough, honey, mama’s boobs hurt,” and he were to respond by sitting up and brightly asking, “Get up?” well, I would be helpless to argue and would find myself cheerfully popping out of bed at 5:40 in the morning to play with Sam.

It was a hell of a plot, but I’ve totally foiled it.

A 109-year-old woman, whose father was a slave, has just cast her ballot for Barack Obama.

Last night, just before bed.

Will: After I get Sam into his pajamas, I’ll come tuck you in.

Me: Is that a euphemism?

Will: Nope. I’m gonna short-sheet you.

Ten minutes later…

Me: Is that a euphemism?

“Let’s go!” and “I go!” (sometimes qualified with “outside” or “upstairs.”)

“No way!”

“Bye-bye.”

“Wow!” and “Whoa!” (not actually interchangeable, but they sound very similar)

“Wait.”

“I want that” and “I need that.” (these are interchangeable, and once he said “I want this one.”)

He’s saying new stuff constantly, but those are my very favorites.

#1 If you think you might run out of yarn, knit faster.