Changing an Image

I have been thinking about perceptions lately. And being the self-proclaimed Attention Whore that I am, I was thinking of how others perceive moi. Here are three examples that I noticed last week:

Example 1: Erotic Blogs I Like
I guess it started months ago, when I noticed that someone placed a link to my site under "Erotic Blogs I Like." There are actually several people who have me listed under that (GP, monica). Now, for those who have erotic blogs themselves, I understand the categorization. But those who have more generalized blogs, I am sort of set in the section behind the curtain. Perhaps that is appropriate.

Then I remembered my blog categorization – "Blogs that Dampen my Panties." Pretty much the same categorization. I went through the blogs this morning, and we have yet another blogger than has stopped – Ken from Louisiana. I saw that he stopped writing recently, and I did not mention it on my blog the other day. Another brick in the wall – or would this be another brick missing in the wall?

Example 2: Coming Along Nicely
Playfully, monica mentioned that my blog turns her mind to the naughty in the comments section of a blog last week.

Example 3: The Kingy Awards
And if you have been reading for a while, you know I like Ddot. He has one heck of a blog. Last week, the winners of the The Kingy Awards were announced. I really creative idea – he made nominations, and anyone who wanted to vote would cast a vote via e-mail. It is a very funny post – his funniest posts are the ones where he either interviews people or otherwise describe conversations or events (like the Awards Ceremony). I won an award (and was a presenter for another award). The award I won was "Blogger you most want hump female." And apparently I got more votes than anyone else. So it is not Ddot that is saying I am the "Blogger you most want hump female." But the voters (worse). I am a consensus slut. Not sure I want to write an acceptance speech for this one – "yes, thank you for voting on my as skank of the year; I will try to live down to the award." I had a boyfriend once who thought it was a compliment to be called "fuckable," but for some (most?) women, it is no true compliment. And I know the boyfriend was trying to compliment me. Guess this is one of those Venus-Mars differences.

Now, all of the people that I have described above are dear to me – and through their blogs, I generally like them. I know they mean no harm, but they see me as some Hugh Hefner without the pipe and smoking jacket, peddling smut to whomever. That is foremost in their minds. Okay, I guess a better example would be Jenna Jameson – she may have lots of adorable attributes, but generally, people don't get past the sexual stuff. First time I saw part of a Jenna Jameson video was in a conference room – so I think she is fairly "mainstream" now.

Now I have a problem – I mean, I have thought about removing my erotic stories several times. And I have not removed them. That is just part of who I am. And I am writing, for the most part, because I want to improve my writing. But there is a part of me that wants to please others – hence, I try to make Joe's morning by at least posting something. Joe, I hope it is okay if these blog entries are made by 9:00 AM. Call the circulation desk if the blog is late, sweetie.

But I should go back to the last paragraph – I have a problem. Because it disturbs me a little. And I know it shouldn't, but it does. Now, I am wondering why – I hope it is more of a calendar thing (hint for the male readers: almost that time of the month). Now I am asking for my monthly visit – oh, where in the heck is that Paxil sample my shrink gave me.

Sidenote comment. Okay, I just looked up the side effects of Paxil, and here is what strikes me as interesting. 1% of people discontinued use of the drug because of flatulence – and 0.3% of people discontinued use of the placebo because of flatulence. Okay, this is disturbing on two fronts – (1) some people got gas from taking a sugar pill, and (2) people would rather have depression than fart. Granted, I am not sure how much of a problem this particular side effect is. I mean, if you sounded like a trombone section of the local symphony, perhaps the side effects may cause more psychological harm than the normal effects of the drug cause good. I don't know; see your doctor.

Oh, look at me, I am getting away from my problem. Do I really care what others think of me here? Apparently I do – and I am not sure I want to. Now, what I hope doesn't happen is that I make a bunch of people feel guilty. I don't want that. And I don't want people changing how or if they link to me.

I don't know where to go with this. Part of me wants to delete the whole monolog, and I hope that no one takes offense. I have tentatively titled this entry – "changing an image". Perhaps that is not the best title for this. I guess we all have images – I have an image of myself, you have an image of me, and everyone who comments or just lurks has an image as well. I let my ideas flow fairly freely here – more so than at work or in public (although my hubbie knows me better than anyone, including things I just won't share with anyone else - ever). I guess what I am driving at is that if I have a sexual thought, my word processor captures it. If I was having a beer with ~deb, it would not resemble a "Girls Gone Wild" video. You'd have to have video surveillance once she invites me in for a nightcap – kidding. I guess all I am saying is that I have some self-control in public, that I don't grab any guy's ass just because, and that I don't have a potty mouth. Yeah, I think about sex sometimes. But most of us do. I just happen to write about it.

Now for something completely different. So, I wrote a site, asking the following question: "I have several questions about your National Novel Writing Year 2006 - how much exactly is 100,000 words? I want to write a book in one year, and I am trying to find a good motivator."

The answer I got: "100,000 words is one hundred thousand words. Just kidding. It's about a 500 page book. Of course, this doesn't have to be all one book. It could be two 250 pages books, five 100 page books, or some other combination."

Everybody is a comedian. Then I looked at my question and thought – what bad sentence structure. Oh, she is going to think I am some literary hack. Ah, another image problem. Son of a bitch. Maybe I do care about my image.