#NerdsUnite: Confessions of an overdreamer (The Overdreamer’s Guide to Creating a New Blog)

<editorsnote> Nerds, meet my buddy Megan. (Yes, another one!) I met her at the #20SB summit in Chicago, and she's a really really really rad chica. She's here today to tell you about a little problem that she has. Megan is what we would call an over-dreamer. Not an overachiever because an overachiever actually achieves something ... Megan dreams, and that's it. And these are her stories ... HIT IT MEGAN!! </editorsnote>

#TalkNerdyToMeLover's @mahannay

Whelp, I did it. In the past week, I uploaded WordPress, messed around with fonts, created some sort of icon and an about page and started posting. I’d like to reserve at least one minute to thank you (yes you! reader person!) as well as Jen for providing me an outlet to connect me with you. Announcing a goal to hundreds of strangers on a big blog is definitely a way to get yourself to keep the commitment. I couldn’t come back this week with nothing!

So I did it!

And, as usual, taking a few risks led me to some strange, strange situations. Here are a few lessons I learned this week:

Lesson 1 - Not everyone gets sarcasm. Oops.
So my first post was a rant about girls who take way too many pictures at bars. You know the type. It’s like – are they even having fun? I can’t even walk around them to go to the bathroom because I’d always be walking in front of a picture! The thing is, I’m just as guilty of that habit as the next girl. Something about a couple of beers and a fun, random event (like the one day in SF when EVERYONE dresses up like Santa) makes you want to document as much as possible. It’s like – is this really my life? Everyone in this bar is dressed like Santa! This is awesome!

So along with my diatribe about the ridiculous narcissism of my peers, I included about five photos I’d taken of myself and my friends at the bar. I even drew giant arrows on the pictures, pointing to myself. HOW MUCH MORE OBVIOUS CAN SARCASM GET?

Apparently, it still wasn’t obvious enough. I’m pretty sure a few of my new readers now think I’m a bit of a ranting bitch. Though, considering the past couple of paragraphs, that may actually be true. How ironic.

Lesson 2 – Watch What You Say About the Opposite Sex, Because They’ll All Come Out of the Woodwork
My second post was about my first crush. I was going to talk about how marketing ruins Christmas or the SOPA act or something, but it was a Tuesday, and I just didn’t have the energy. So I went for the easy story instead: I was eight years old. His name was Patrick. It never quite panned out between us (shocker, I know!)

At the beginning of that post, I promised my readers I would write about a guy I’d “liked” every time I got writer’s block. Within hours of my posting, two of my flings from last summer reappeared via Facebook (one on chat and one on my wall, actually asking “when are you going to write about me?”)

So let’s just clarify this distinction right here and now: there is a difference between a crush and a random hookup. One lasts at least a few days, in my case it’s more like months or years. The other lasts a few hours at best. I will not be giving vivid descriptions of all of my summer hookups to my readers. Sorry S.E.

Lesson 3 - Blogging daily is effing exhausting.
This isn’t a complaint or a woe-is-me lesson. It’s more of an epiphany. I’ve always respected my favorite bloggers for their writing and their energy and their ideas, but after a few days of putting myself to work after I get home from work work, it’s like “jeez, I think my brain is actually running out of juice.” (Sidenote – does anyone know where I can purchase more brainjuice? I think they ran out at my Safeway.)

Committing yourself to a blog means some major restrictions on your social life, or your exercise life (I’m getting a pooch – I just KNOW it), and most definitely on your TV-watching life (okay, that’s probably a good thing).

Seriously, I’m sitting here, writing this post on a Thursday night, on the train on the way to a ballet, and part of me just wants to go home and sleep for about five years.

Just a PART.

The rest of me is completely stoked about my new blog, the encouragement I got from readers of this blog, and the crazy adventures I’ll have to put myself through to keep the good stories coming.

Next up? I’m visiting the boy in LA. (This weekend, as in TOMORROW! Yea!). There are two Christmas parties, meaning that I get to meet about 489 of his friends that I’ve never met before. I will probably get too drunk and/or spill wine on myself and/or realize there’s a giant hole in the butt of my khakis and/or eat the garnish, not realizing it’s garnish and/or awkwardly forget everyone’s name and/or trip over the Christmas tree.

But at least when I introduce myself, I’ll get to say “Oh I do social media, and I’m a writer.”

 

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#NerdsUnite: The Ramblings of a Raconteuse (Why I freaking love the #NoH8 campaign))

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Fun with #OkCupid: Last night I had a date with Michael Bolton