Find Your Niche They Said, It’ll be Good They Said

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I’ve been blogging for 5 years now.  This is actually my fifth blog.  I wrote under a pseudonym for the first 4 years (Sparky Lee Anderson);  I also wrote a blog called The Canine Companion that was about dog health and training.  I then ventured off in to Blogger to create a blog about living with ME/CFS called My Life in Fog Goggles and I begun an additional blog called My Whovian Take solely about Doctor Who.  I guess you can say I was trying to find my niche.

Finding my niche has been my greatest struggle.  I see so many women doing Travel, Beauty and Lifestyle blogs and that’s just not me.  I mean, I wear make up sometimes, but I’m poor so frugality is a big thing in my life.  I know nothing about new make up trends, Sephora, or $100 serums.  I’m here in my closet sized bathroom slathering St. Ives and Clean & Clear on my aging, acne prone face.  I still use baby powder after my showers and I buy whatever lotion happens to be on sale that week.  I don’t even buy women’s razors.  I refuse to spend more money for a pink handle.  Fuck that noise.  So as you can see, a Beauty blogger I am not.

I don’t think anyone is interested in my travels seeing how as I mainly only travel from the bed to the couch to the bathroom, with periodic jaunts outside in my Pajama pants to take my dog out for her pees.  Every so often I walk up to the corner store for a Diet Coke.  Sure, it’s all first class travel; because I said so, I’m wearing my good Chucks, my dog is dressed in her finest jacket and I’m drinking a whole can of Diet Coke, not half a can in a plastic cup with airplane ice cubes in it.  I also insist on carrying hot towels with me at all times and a sleeping mask should the mood catch me.  If I wrote a book about Travel it would be called, “I don’t have to put a bra on do I?”.  I’d probably only sell a few copies to other women who hate bras.  It wouldn’t be a fruitful venture.

That brings us to Lifestyle.  Well, if your lifestyle includes things like eating peanut butter with a spoon out of the jar at 1 am over the kitchen sink, or house cleaning in your underwear, maybe I’m on to something.  I could write about the dinner parties I throw.  Ok so it’s not so much as a dinner party as it is Supper for two people.  I could write about my Clubbing adventures.  Sure, it was the nineties and we danced to C&C Music Factory while downing $1 watered down beverages and I haven’t stepped foot in to a club since Clinton was in office but hey.  Maybe I could write about things like Home Decor.  I can do amazing things with TARDISs and old movie posters.  Do you like Christmas lights year round?  Functional furniture that doesn’t match?  Let me be your Ghetto Martha Stewart.  I can show you how to fold take out napkins into little squares that fit discreetly in your purse in case you ever need to pee roadside.  I can offer you a hundred ways to use Baking Soda.  I can reveal secrets like; Did you know you can do laundry at least once or twice without soap thanks to the soap residue and build up in your washing machine?  No?  You’re welcome.  I just saved you $3.  Perhaps I’m on to something.

I don’t know if I will ever fit in to a niche any more than I fit in to my skinny jeans.  I’ve always been kind of an outside the box kinda broad. 

Are you a niche blogger or do you have a theme you tend to write about?  Share your links below, I’d love to learn more.

Are you one of these people that put eyelashes on your car’s headlights?  If so, please remove them, they look ridiculous.  This statement really has nothing to do with this post, but I just saw one drive by and had to voice my opinion.

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Live Humbly, Be Charitable, Live Graciously, Shag it,

Sam

Image courtesy of Pixabay

I Used To Be Pretty 

Ugh. I used to be pretty.” I mumble to myself in the mirror as I tweeze the stray hairs from between my eyebrows.  Like most women, my eyebrows are not naturally perfect.  In fact, I have a unabrow that I have been taking care of since junior high.  I really don’t care who knows because there are pictures of me floating around out there sporting big black thick caterpillars so I’m not fooling anybody.  In the nineties, it was all about the skinny brow.  I wore those too.  Back then I looked constantly surprised.  We all did.  It was a frightening time.  That’s where The Macarena lives.  I take my eyebrows seriously now.   I have left specific instructions with my partner as well as close friends that if I am ever hospitalized for any length of time, for the love of all things holy, please have someone come in and do my eyebrows.  Anyway, moving on, I used to be pretty.  I’m really noticing my age now when I look in the mirror. 

I have creases and lines around my darkened eyes that I try to hide with concealers and light eyeshadows.  I have noticeable lines around my mouth from laughing out loud and deep frown lines in my forehead from wincing in pain, and from saying “what in the actual fuck?” too often.  I have coarse gray hairs sprouting where my soft wavy auburn ones used to be. 

Things creak and snap and pop in a much older, much rounder version of a girl that used to dance with reckless abandon alone in her room to the B52s.  The girl who used to stay up all night finishing a Stephen King novel before she went to school now, at 43 holds that Stephen King book much farther away and prefers e readers because you can make the font large and these days, I’m all about less squinting.

I’m aging.  It seems to have snuck up on me somewhere between season 1 and season 7 of Game of Thrones.  

One night you’re washing your bar makeup off and when you splash your face and look up, it’s 20 years later and there’s some old broad standing where you once were with an “I’m too old for this shit” look on her face.  She thinks your music is too loud and that young people suck.  

I guess I’m not at that aging gracefully stage as there seems to be nothing graceful about it. Things drop, sag and hang and all the push up bras and Spanx in the world can’t hide the lie forever.  Why are my hips widening now?  The time for babies has passed.  It really seems like overkill.  

I’d like to conclude by saying something like, “oh but I am so much wiser.”  I am.   I’m wise to the fact that I’m looking and feeling haggard and old.  


This blog post brought to you by Queens of the Stone Age Villains.. On repeat. Thank God for Rock and Roll…

Live Humbly, Be Charitable, Tell Her She’s Pretty,

Sam
Sam Clattenburg