Vintage Blogging, 1970s Style

If you’re going to get an annual update from a family, it usually comes in the form of a Christmas newsletter. Well, in 1974 my liberated mother decided to get her Erma Bombeck on and send out the update in the form of four-page article called “Dear Diary, or How I Spent My 35th Birthday.” If you’ve ever wondered how a blog-post would have read in 1974 (although, that’s something fairly specific to wonder, so likely, no one has), here’s your answer. Apparently, my mom had the makings of a blogger, long before the concept existed. She was, and still is, a woman truly ahead of her time.

And now, without further ado, I give you February 1974 and my mother’s 35th birthday …


My Actual Family, 1974-ish

“Happy birthday,” he said, as I gagged on the overpowering smell of his hairspray.

Where does it say that a wife should have to endure the noxious fumes of a man’s vanity? Where does it say that the husband has first crack at the hairdryer in the morning? I say, beware, girls, of the nice guy who fits in perfectly with your dreams of the ideal man and father for your children! I am convinced that these so-called “nice guys” are the ruination of the truly liberated woman. I’m so liberated that I find myself in a kind of oppressed liberation. With him sitting on the sidelines, full of self-satisfaction, watching my every move and thinking to himself, “You got yourself into this mess, Anita, and you can get yourself out of it.”

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Excuses, Excuses, Excuses

I guess I’m not doing the greatest job of resurrecting poor Pucker Up. But in my defense (what? I’m not being defensive, you’re being defensive!), I have been busy writing and doing other projects. That’s unusual for me because generally when I go on hiatus, it’s because I’m in avoidance mode.

I’ve got a profile out on Upwork and I’ve been getting some freelance work via the site, some writing and some animation. I just finished an animation gig that I’d love to share, but the client hasn’t posted it yet, so I can’t leapfrog him and debut it before he does. But, all in good time. I’ve also been doing my fair share of ghostwriting, which I can’t talk much about because I signed non-disclosure agreements. I find that my writing seems to be more popular with European than American clients, although I couldn’t begin to guess why.

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Buttercup’s Resurrection

How long can a blog remain dormant and still be viable? We’re about to find out.

I last posted to Pucker Up Buttercup nearly threback bitches 01e years ago. Since then, she (yes, she … Buttercup identifies as female) has sat un-updated and, I’m assuming, unread. An abandoned blog, adrift in the Blogosphere, like a tumbleweed spinning across the desert, accompanied only by the sound of crickets and the occasional howl of a lone coyote.

At least, that’s how I’ve thought of her, and I’ve felt guilty for it. Buttercup deserves better. She’s a good blog and I’m proud of her. But, when you’ve got a case of the bipolars, it can be difficult to be a consistent blogger. And when you’re inconsistent, the time between posts can be erratic. I’d have good spells where I posted nearly every day. Then I’d fall in the hole and not make an appearance for weeks or months.

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Pardon My Stereotype

Eleven stories and 13,000 words into my thousand story odyssey and I haven’t yet run screaming into the night. Having 989 stories to go may seem overwhelming … because it is overwhelming. Which is why I’m counting little steps of progress as wins rather than focusing on the big (scary) picture.

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Some Of My Best Friends Are Strangers

0091 human_heartIn about a week, the blogosphere will be neck deep in Valentine’s Day related posts. From the loved to the lonely, the damaged to the dreamers, the haters, the lovers, the bitter, the giddy, the cynics and the believers — every opinion, reaction, experience and emotion will be represented and documented. You won’t be able to swing a last minute, leftover bouquet of wilted flowers without hitting a Valentine’s Day post. Continue reading →

Space Tribe Orgy

astronaut 2nd CircleWell would you look at that?! I can’t believe it’s shameless self-promotion time again. The days sure do fly by when you’re trying to find a way to call attention to yourself and your non-blog projects without appearing to be even more narcissistic than you’ve already revealed yourself to be. Fortunately, it occurred to me that if I replace my egocentric blathering with genuine admiration and a glowing review of another person’s work, in which I just happened to play a small part, I can ride her coat tails straight to The Land of Hey Look At Me!
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Senior Girl Scout Bust Strip

Little Oliver Cleone

Little Oliver develops his fear of boneless animals …

I’ve noticed that from time to time bloggers will invite other writers, or non-writers, to present their take on an incident or event. It seems like a clever idea, the readers get a view from angle by which they perhaps hadn’t yet examined the subject at hand, the writer gets to connect with a new and different audience and, probably most important of all, the blog owner gets a mini-vacay. Continue reading →

What Did I Miss?

0085 meI can never remember the blogging rules. When returning from a hiatus, do you acknowledge the absence, or just dive back in as though you were never gone? Or are you supposed to hang up your Gone Fishin’ sign before slipping out the backdoor? If it’s the latter, that could be a problem for me since I generally don’t know when I’ll go off the grid until I’m well into the thick of it. Continue reading →

Is It Award Season Already?

sisterhoodoftheworld_logoIt seems that a dragon of the hidden variety from The Book of the Seven Forbidden Wisdoms has nominated me for The Sisterhood of the World Bloggers Award. As with other WordPress awards, there are never any winners, only nominees. And I like that because when a WP blogger says, “I’m happy just to be nominated,” we really mean it. It’s not about pretending to be humble while calling on the universe to pleeeeaaase let you win. It’s about writers recognizing and appreciating each other, which is about the highest compliment we can pay to our fellow wordsmiths. Continue reading →