The Pressure to Be Interesting

http://applecopywriting.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/spock-interesting-300x223.png

As I sat at my computer, fingers still, mind unnaturally devoid of my usual ceaseless internal conversation, I realized that I couldn't think of anything to blog about this week. 

My last post saved me from a multiple week hiatus, leaving me scrambling to come up with a topic that could actually be rendered blog-worthy. Despite utilizing my countless hours in traffic for brainstorming, when I logged into Blogger to write a new post, I faced a blank screen and embarrassment. I couldn't allow myself to fall into the hopeless chasm that is writer's block. But was it writer's block?

I faced a reality that appeared far more grim than the notion of being plagued with just writer's block. No, it was far worse than that. Could it be... that I was just uninteresting?

With the past few weeks consisting of little more than going to work and coming home, interspersed with some relatively drama-free hangouts lacking friend bites and awkward small talk, I had nothing to share, nothing to show, and certainly, nothing to blog about. Sure, things have happened, but is it worthy to spend time chatting on about? Probably not. As cute as my dog is, I don't know if I could really attribute an entire post to my dog's napping locations throughout the house.

The realization that this past month of post-vacation daily activity has left my bank of ideas empty got me to thinking. There seems to be an immense amount of pressure to be interesting. I mean, let's consider all of the social media outlets demanding content from us: Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, etc. What good are these accounts if not to show the entire world how interesting you are? Our Tweets display our wittiness or clever social commentary. Our Instagram accounts prove that we do exciting things like get into fancy bars, meet celebrities and drink artistic cappuccinos while eating cute breakfast pastries. Oh, and Facebook? Well, obviously Facebook proves that we have lots of friends who like to talk to us and take pictures with us and of us. If I fail to meet a certain level of interest, then I might as well cease to exist! At least, via social media. These social media outlets link our online lives to our offline lives-- so if I'm not doing anything interesting offline, what am I going to post online? What content will I be able to produce if my life offers nothing of interest to share?

I suppose we can take this into philosophical territory, if we so dare. What comes first: the interesting life or the interesting online profile? If my life is yielding little material for blogging fodder, does this force me to lead a more interesting life, in hopes that I'll have something to show for it via blog? Or do I have a great online presence because I have an overall interesting life and interesting things to say? Or... worse... am I focusing too much on creating an interesting life online, leaving my offline life to suffer for it? 

We are all curators of the online "museum" of ourselves, so to speak. We choose what to show, what to say, what to share, and therefore, do our best to control that particular image. Yet, unless we decide to "Catfish" our entire audience, we need to maintain that element of authenticity, and are thus subjected to trying to be that "person" we reveal online and offline. Should this blogging writer's block serve as a message that I need to get out more-- perhaps, re-acquaint myself with the rest of the world in order to produce more and better content? Or am I just not looking at myself hard enough to see that I have plenty of material just waiting to be typed out and posted? Perhaps neither, and instead, I just need to focus on doing my own thing, not worrying about whether or not it will give me something to write/Tweet/post about and enjoy life -- you know, reconnecting with life outside of this humming little monitor and chattering keys? The pressure to be interesting is something provoked by all of these online entities, which would be nonexistent were it not for modern technology. My Facebook page needs a smartphone/computer/tablet to exist -- but I do not. Could it be that I am more interesting than I give myself credit for?

Probably not, but the the good news is I have managed to turn this bout of uninteresting-ness into a post. Silver lining?

For more on this sort of social media insanity, check out this brief article on "Social Media Mental Problems" -- I think it sums things up pretty well:
http://nymag.com/thecut/2013/05/six-major-anxieties-of-social-media.html

Is Blogging Just a Form of Narcissism?

How appropriate...
from someecards.com

Originally, I was going to blog about "the art of listening" -- how it seems as though I have a tendency to talk and talk and talk and forget that other people's stories might be more important and more helpful than simply telling my own. This is not to say that I am a terrible listener, but I will admit that my love for talking sometimes means that I can dominate a conversation. As I pondered my chatterbox tendencies and how I could share some insight into the world of a loquacious lady, I realized that my blog is a way of talking to people without necessarily giving them equal opportunity to participate in the conversation. Sure, you can comment on a post, but that is in response to my (severely) lengthy posts, rants and ramblings, which are the focal points of that conversation.

So that led me to this post's eponymous question: is blogging just a form of narcissism? Using my own blog as an example, it certainly seems that blogging can be a bit self-indulgent. Here is a medium through which I can share all of my personal anecdotes, insights and ideas -- however verbose or trivial those anecdotes, insights and ideas may be. I'm the primary story-teller and the only voice that ever appears on this blog -- a blog that began out of selfish necessity, a way to sort of demand engagement with the online community, where there may not have even been a demand for that type of engagement.

However regularly, I post and talk about myself and things I think are worthy of talking about and just hope that people out there will read my personal musings with piqued curiosity and inflated interest. Is this realistic? Does my blog warrant that sort of following or worth? Am I just another delusional blogger who thinks that her posts are important or make some sort of impact on society or (shudder) better than they actually are? Perhaps. But I wonder if, not to defer blame, this era of immediacy and social media are encouraging this sort of narcissism. 

After all, how many people do you know without a Facebook, Twitter or Instagram account? All of these mediums applaud egotism, in a way. I'd be lying if I said that receiving multiple re-Tweets or a certain number of "likes" on a Facebook picture elicited nothing more than apathetic acknowledgement on my part. Somehow, self-worth becomes predicated on followers, likes and re-pins. We are reaffirmed in purpose and self-importance by our peers' approval via online activity. A blog is just another extension of that, granting the illusion that we have an audience and that audience wants to hear about our every personal experience -- whether it is a recipe we just tried, an outfit we wore today or our thoughts on blogging as a form of narcissism (ha -- see what I did there).

It seems as though some of it is a bit necessary, though. In a time of economic uncertainty, we need to be our own biggest cheerleader in order to get a job. I can't think of a time where someone won a competition by advocating for their opponent and praising their skills over their own. Our tweets, Facebook profile, instagrams, etc. have become a way to market ourselves, and in order to market ourselves effectively and competitively, we inevitably fall prey to self-aggrandizement. Sure, you could initially join Facebook or Twitter to keep in touch with friends and family, but do you need to tweet about your sandwich or post photos of your cat's birthday party in order to do that? Or are you just assuming that your followers want to see these things? That you have followers that care? Only later to be reaffirmed that you should continue to post photos of your cat's celebrations because it keeps receiving likes from your multitude of followers. It seems as though one could get tied up in the delusion that these things are more important than they might actually be (although cat birthdays are important, people).

I digress (a little bit). Blogging could be considered just another forum for self-indulgent activity and re-affirmation. I sit down at my computer, write about something I think is important (whether it is a personal anecdote, an opinion/comment on society, etc) and post it with the assumption that it is significant enough to garner a following or audience. Isn't that narcissism at its finest? Assuming that my life and thoughts warrant sharing and online postings; that naturally people would be interested. Of course, I don't mean to sound so pessimistic -- after all, blogging is a great way to bring communities of people together and spread knowledge and stories. But at the same time, I can't help but play devil's advocate here. There needs to be a bit of self-awareness, especially on my part as a self-proclaimed "Chatty Cathy," as far as trying to facilitate a larger dialogue with my readers is concerned. Certainly, I could talk about myself for hours (and many posts) on end, but does that over-interest in myself simply stop at me? Is there a demand for what I'm saying? Or am I inflating my importance?

I hope that this will encourage you, my readers (all three of you?), to participate in a conversation with me. I started this blog as a way to share my own experiences, yes, but I also want to engage with others who have had similar experiences or have their own anecdotes to share that might shed some insight onto other facets of post-grad life (or just life in general, you know). I will shut up now.

Comment away! Let's all talk.

Inspiration from my Younger Self

Back in the day, I aspired to be a writer or a poet. I still do aspire to be a writer, but not so much a poet for various reasons: only elitist English majors like myself read poetry (half-joke), doesn't pay too well...to name a few.
However, I still love and appreciate poetry. After all, I do have an English degree and actually enjoy delving beneath the surface of a text to get at its meaning, if you had to know.

Flash back to my task the other day: cleaning out my desk to make space for a mini-room makeover. My desk has been the catchall for basically all of my writing hits and misses, former homework assignments and odds and ends. My entire life was stuffed in, on and under my desk, and it was time to de-clutter as I move forward as an adult (despite living back at home.)
Somewhere in the middle of this huge mess, I stumbled across a poem I must have written in elementary school, since that is when most of my regular poetry writing occurred. It struck a chord with me, seeing as though I am in this huge period of transition, figuring out what I want out of life and how to achieve it. This poem offered me some encouragement -- I was writing then, and still writing now (though obviously not in the same medium) and I had enough foresight then to realize that the first step in achieving your goals is believing in yourself.

I think my illustration is meant to be an Olympic swimmer going for gold.
Maybe I have been pursuing the wrong goal the whole time... Perhaps I was meant to be an artist...

Oh, an update on my current back-and-forth regarding the internship position: I came in with an offer as to what I thought was appropriate to be paid and they returned with a much lower amount. Even though this would be better than nothing, I'm not willing to settle quite yet, especially when I consider myself to be worth more than their offer -- and because I am trying to keep in mind the little words of wisdom from my younger years and remember to believe in myself.