Ideas for a blog
What the hell was I thinking?I went into this whole blog idea because I really enjoy writing happy hour emails and running group emails. I was told that they were very amusing and that I should write a blog. I once cited myself in one of those emails, “(Nicapedia 2011).” In the past, I have tried to keep a journal, a blog’s low-tech cousin, but every time I would end up in this horrible dark place that I did not care to venture without pepper spray. So when the idea of a blog would get brought up I would readily dismiss it.
But then the information age came knocking at the door of Alto Mundo, what I call my house. If I am allowed a tangent, Alto Mundo was the name of the house where my grandfather grew up. It was on a cliff. I live in a back house in Los Angeles, not quite at the top of the hill. My brother’s house, also in LA, would actually be more appropriate property for the name, but I thought of it first! If he must name his house, I suggest, La caida del plomo, which is the name of a pass on the way to Managua. From this tangent comes a great lesson, invest in a English-Spanish dictionary.
But I digress. The first information age product that arrived in Alto Mundo was Twitter. Yes, email was already there, as was the Internet. Facebook came later, but quickly became the middle child of the bunch even before the arrival of Google+. Google+ is very impressive. But as the oldest, Twitter is where I often found myself putting all of my hopes and expectations, and guess what, it wasn’t dark at all. There are a few post about parking that I am not proud of, mostly because of the profanity, but all in all, the post have not moved anyone to call me and ask me if I was okay and needed someone to talk to. So I succumbed to the peer pressure (suggestions, honestly) and armed with my own concoction of hubris signed up for a blog.
I thought it was point and click
After I signed up and quickly wrote an about me that I am already contemplating changing, I realized that I needed to customized the look and feel of my blog. What really said “The Nicatator” to me and would say it loudly to its readership. I wrongly titled my blog after my first entry only to realized it much later in the customizing process. I honestly do not know what I opted into or out of. I know that I picked my red curtains because they remind me of Twin Peaks and the place where Agent Cooper goes to in his dreams. By the way, I live in or near a neighborhood called Garvanza, and it creeps me out. But aside from the background I was completely lost. Really, where are the little question marked icons that explain everything? This is harder than I thought. If my blog look keeps changing, bear with me, I am trying to find myself in templates and images not tailored for The Nicatator. Maybe I can look for something with lakes and volcanoes or something blue.
I may need an editor...I need an editor
I did ask a friend to read my first post. She has a blog and was one of the people that suggested I write one too. She liked my first entry. She did not let on what it was going to take to develop a blog. But I cannot blame the short comings of my blog on a friend. I can say as a disclaimer that my writing could benefit from editing, pro-bono editing. Let us be honest, I am not going to pay anyone to proof-read my nonsense or makes-sense. I am aware that my writing may need polishing and that my syntax and grammar a soak, a pre-rinse, and perhaps two cycles, but it is a blog, and as I mentioned before I put all my hopes and expectations on Twitter. The blog is like my imaginary, not so good looking, child that needs braces, it would help, a little. But braces cost money and really, how much would it help.
“My English not so good sometimes” - The Nicatator
My claim that English is my second language has become the raft to which I cling from in the icy waters of bad grammar and syntax and spelling and whatever other mistake I make. Because I work with colleagues who were born in Spanish speaking households this fact is not always acceptable. I think that is the waste that bulls make. I did not just grow up speaking a language other than English, I lived in a country where everyone spoke a language other than English, I watched television where all three channels carried programing in a language other than English and I attended school where the only language that I was taught in was not English! I did not go to the store with my mother and see signs in another language, I did not flip through children’s books in another language, and the only time I heard people speak English was when I heard music in English. And We are the World, Beat it, What’s Love Got To Do With It, did not provided enough exposure for me to understand English. And while my colleagues may have grown up in predominately Spanish-speaking households, in my country the word for bus, bus is actually pronounced with a Spanish sounding U. There was no anglicize or miss-pronunciation, actually there was but you pronounce it Spanish.
My blog is an imperfect blog. I leave you with some ideas for a blog and some blog names that I documented on Twitter: “ The Nicatator Manifesto: A blog about the things I like and don’t like, and the things that make me angry” (too dark but very honest); “coffee and wine” (I am not really sure why but it is possible I was having wine); “Guts and Black Stuff” (as homage to Nelson Muntz from The Simpsons except that I had some copyright and licensing doubts); “Daytime Drinking: a blog for the Nicatator to rant about everything as if she were drunk during the daytime hours.” And that is who I am. Also, did I mentioned that I started my "creative" writing writing about happy hour?
