When I decided to attach a pint sized blog to my website it only came to fruition after I got over a severe case of nerves. I hesitated for so long because I was rightly concerned about the eyes – both business and personal — who would be reading it.
It was clearer than a day at my favorite beach in Antigua I wouldn’t be able to talk about most of the things happening in my day – all the scandalous behind the scenes tales about contracts, celebrities and vanishing cellulite mixed in with the mundane waits for producers or agents to respond to an email with a green light or a frustrating red light – because I would never get booked again.
It was air apparent I would have to extremely limit what I said about friends or family if I wanted to continue to have any. My mother was at the top of that list being a woman who greatly appreciated her privacy. Lord knows, the ban of me doing anything wrong while she was a judge was just finally lifted after being in effect since the day she was appointed decades ago.
So I decided it would be wise to be mum about everything from sitting in the waiting room at her mammogram appointments to talks about remodeling her kitchen or the miraculous feat of cooking an entire Thanksgiving feast without having an aneurism. As I found out, it was a good idea because it seems that even her friends’ eyes are on my mild blog. (Hi! Please invite me to your next dinner. They always sound so lovely.)
It wasn’t really hard for me to decide to not blog about Luke and Natalie’s papa con queso because I knew that while he didn’t care enough to read what I wrote, his nosy “friends” and even nosier family — Yes, I said it. And they are lucky that’s the word I used — would feel it their duty to alert him to my opinions. I didn’t really want to invite any headaches or comments responding to what would have been daily monologues about my love for how they’ve treated me and my kiddos.
Why would I divulge things like that? Sometimes even the most confident person wants reassurance from someone else (even people you don’t know because it seems unbiased) that “Yep, that girl was definitely off her medication when she said that to you.” And nothing beats receiving an email from a reader alerting you to something you once mentioned as being important. Or getting a quick note from a singer you loved in the 90s who was name checked.
It pains me to be sitting on these anecdotes which would make for quite the Bravo reality series. I could get off the phone and exclaim “Is she kidding me?” or “Why is her boyfriend such a jerk”. People … I have quality reality TV content here I can’t share. But as I was reminded last week, brands appreciate it more when I stick to being Savvy Mommy sans personal blog posts. (This should shine a little light for those wondering why the blog name changed. Another pair of eyes, huh.)
So welcome (back) everyone. I promise only a small dose of $10 words – just enough so my mother’s friends know I still am intelligent – and occasionally more than a semi candid glimpse into mi vida loca.
I enjoy reading your emailed love notes and misspelled letters of hate sent because I disagree with your views. Keep them coming – unless it’s a disturbing account of how much you’d like to see me without a bathrobe. Keep that to yourself; buddy, unless you want to make it into my folder for “special” emails.
