Some random thoughts for this weekend…

I started blogging in the wake of the 2016 election. I had this vision—and also the time as I was unemployed—to build a hub of mid-life feminist thought. For a long while, I’d curate articles that appealed to my ideals that revolves around wellness and health and inspiration, other things too, with the goal of reach in mind. I ran interviews with women and I did product reviews and on occasion, I had writers also participating. It became a nice anchor to start the days with this ritual of blogging, on top of caring for Rocky and the general morning breeze of a teenager in the midst and of course, the hunt for a job. I was doing, in my opinion, a decent job of have hundreds of daily views on my posts, although on my socials, my follower growth never really popped and that had always been a little bit of a bummer. However, I liked being in the midst of and following the wave of women who were doing things, important things.

I suppose the lack of growth in general and the shift away from curation and interviewing women and all those little things that allowed for this more personal and erratic evolution was in part due to having full time paid work; I simply could not juggle the pressure of the job I did as a Creative Director with the kind of dedication I needed to have as a blogger of note, there were not enough hours in the day to do so. Simply. Not. Enough. Curating took time, sometimes a morning of sifting through the Internet for smart articles about ageism and funny and valued thought. I even, for a short sprint, searched for someone to assist in growth but even that hit a wall. People, like myself, need to make money.

And so, in the last few years, I shifted from curation and third party involvement to simply posting thoughts, Long ruminations on whatever it is and was on my mind, my pain included. I don’t rule out hope that one day there may be an angel investor that encourages me to dig in and make BARB the thing of my initial vision, but until that genie In a bottle appears, I will continue to find a way to fit in blogging with the full time jobs and the grad school and the general business of making life work for myself. i do like having an outlet. I love connecting with you. I appreciate that we are all still here.

I’m in the city now, but my mind is at the beach—the smell of the ocean, the cool breeze on my face, the soothing nature of the sun on my shoulders—that is where I am, really, where I would rather be. In the week that I’ve been home, I’ve taken busses and subways and very expensive car services to go see my friends and, while I have missed them so, I would rather be not-here. The city is alive, bursting at the seams, every restaurant teeming with laughter and relief, the knowing looks of those of us who are still standing, that nod, the underlying layer of sadness; I don’t want to be here. The beach was restorative. It was tranquil. Even on the days when the bay water rose in its turbulence, it was still so welcoming to me than where I sit on my very comfortable couch. Maybe I just need to get out more.