Category Archives: Blogging

Thank you for your consideration

So, I just got the shock of my life as a blogger. I was nominated by  for a Liebster award! Wow! Someone in the blogosphere actually thinks I’m okay at this writing thing. Who’d-a-thunk-it? Certainly not me.

My nomination came from this talented and kind writer:

Liebster Award

First question my curious mind requires an answer to is Who the heck is Liebster? Okay, stick with me here while I figure this out….

Okay, first thing I learn about Liebster is it’s a german word. Yay!! Though I have yet to confirm this through ancestry.com or other websites you send your spit to, I have it on good authority (good old mom and dad) that our ancestors hailed from Germany. So perfect, right? It’s a sign. I love signs!!

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Liebster, translated into English is “dearest”, “favorite”, and “my love”. Oh, I’m gushing!

Alright, now what does the award part mean in “Liebster award”? According to my extensive  research, bloggers are bestowed nominations for it when they are “up and coming” and have under 200 followers. Hey, I don’t think I’ve ever in my entire life been referred to as “Up and Coming”!! Makes me feel young again. Maybe I should print t-shirts. You know my artist kiddo does make and sell t-shirts. Hmmm…there’s a thought. And yes, I proudly have 25 followers, so I certainly qualify for this nomination based on that little factoid.

Okay, enough spazzing out (for now anyway).

This nomination does not come without strings. There are questions I am required to answer. Hopefully I’ll get them right because I like to win!! Especially if I get a trophy. I’ve never won one of those.

Question #1: Why do you write?

Because I have a lot of opinions and feelings and I feel a sense of satisfaction when I hit “publish”. And I don’t have any volunteers to hang with me all day and listen while I flap my gums about whatever happens to be on my mind.

Question #2: Is there anything in your life that fills the same need as writing?

Only thing that comes to mind is cleaning the house. But like, who in their right mind would spend hours upon hours cleaning their house every week? Not this broad, that’s for sure.

Question #3: Did you always want to write, or were you more like me and wanted to be the President of the lost city of Atlantis?

I always wanted to write. Always. Cannot recall a time in which this wasn’t something I wanted to do in my core of cores.

Question #4: What’s something you want to write about but haven’t yet for some reason?

I’d say it’s a toss about about that time I declined George Clooney’s offer of a night of Italian wine and unbridled passion and the time I won Survivor. Just kidding, peeps. Do you really think I’d turn down George?

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Oh George, you are one handsome devil

 

Question #5: What is your favorite punctuation mark?

Without a doubt, the comma. The meaning of a sentence can vary wildly based on the placement of a simple comma. Example: Rhonda’s inspiration comes from her Hubs cooking neighborhood bunnies. See what I mean?

Question #6: What is something you cannot stand?

When I’m talking on the phone and someone is also talking at me in person at the same time. Or when I’m really into watching something on t.v. and Hubs is simultaneously telling me a story. It’s information overload for my brain and makes me feel crazed.

Question #7: What is something you can stand, but you’d really rather not deal with?

People who have the audacity to wear two different socks in public. It seems to be a trend, I swear! The only possible way I could imagine addressing this fashion atrocity would be to carry multiple matching pairs of socks in my purse at all times. But I do not wish to carry a purse larger than a bowling ball bag with me everywhere I go. So I’ll deal.

Question #8: If you could burn any single building to the ground what would it be?

Well, as long as no living beings are in said building, I’d say an abandoned, dilapidated old barn, far from any trees (need to be responsible and not cause a forest fire), and right next to a beautiful lake. All my friends would be there, sitting around in Zero Gravity camping loungers, drinking craft beer and roasting marshmallows while Jack Johnson strums his guitar sitting on a stool amidst the revelry.

Question #9: What is the last thing that made you laugh so hard you made a noise you’re ashamed of?

I think I made a few charming guffaws last week whilst watching the episode of Seinfeld where George is gifted a doll that looks exactly like his mother. And his fiance insists on keeping this doll in bed with them during a nookie nookie session. That Susan was a twisted woman. Good thing for George she died upon licking those cheap wedding invitation envelopes. He dodged a bullet there.

Question #10: What would it take for you to steal a car?

First off, I would require the tank be full. And it’d have to be a really cool, fast car like a Jaguar. I’d say that there would have to be an iron clad guarantee that I would not be caught, arrested, or prosecuted. But seriously, that would take all the fun out of it amiright? All kidding aside,  I’d do it if it meant saving someone’s life. Or if the prize was a month long, all expenses paid trip for Hubs and I to visit Europe.

Question #11: If you had a spear, a potted plant, and an empty journal, what would you do to impress a date?

A pickle spear or a pineapple spear? I would enjoy either. I’d impress my date by sharing it with them. Since there is no mention of a writing utensil in this scenario, I’d rip up the journal and use it for confetti to celebrate the event. And then I would lead my date on a guided meditation on the potted plant.

 

 

Polly’s party game

I think it’s high time I bring out the pinata and play a game with my blogging posse (clearly I have yet to get the letter “P” out of my system). What do you say peeps?

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It’s important to me that you understand that next to my sheer enjoyment of expressing myself through creative writing via this blog, I am finding the connections I’ve been making with my followers and other bloggers meaningful and inspiring. Plus, I’m positively pining to procure your perceptions.  Clearly, Playful/Pubescent Polly is at the reins of this pinata pony now. Okay, time to proceed.

6 questions. Nothing too preposterous.

First, here’s a pic of my petunias (it’s entirely possible that I have ADHD, but that’s another post entirely. Someday. If I remember to pen it.)

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Check out the sad little white one in the front. Guess petunias aren’t perfect either.

1)If you could have any superpower, what would it be and why?

P: To be a butterfly with great hearing. A purple one, because most of the time that is my favorite color. So everyone who sees me thinks I’m all pretty and innocent. But what they don’t know is that I have supersonic hearing. And when I fly on back home I can turn back into myself and write down everything I heard (to later be used as fodder for my blog posts), because unlike the version of myself sans wings, I also have hyperthymesia.

thanks Wikipedia

2) Dogs or cats?

P: For me, it’s dogs all the way! There is a reason people why the word “dog” is simply “God” spelled backwards. And just like God, dogs love all of us unconditionally. Cats are a whole other ball of twine from my perspective. They are a persnickety lot. Plus I’m allergic to them, or 88% of them anyway. On top of that, “Cat” spelled backwards is “tac” which is not even a word. Except for “Tic Tacs” which isn’t a real word either, just a minimally enjoyable mint.

3.) Would you rather see John Mellencamp or Bruce Springsteen in concert?

P: Well I’d totally be thrilled to see both of them, as their songs contributed to the soundtrack of my pubescent years. But since I have to choose, I pick “The Boss”. For practical reasons primarily. Springsteen is the oldest of the two, thus statistically (don’t judge me, I’m not a mathematician for Pete’s sake) more likely to croke prior to Johnny Cougar. Time is of the essence here.

4) Who would play you in the movie or t.v. version of your life?

P: Mary Louise Parker or Winona Ryder. Keep your pessimistic opinions to yourselves please. A girl can dream right?

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10-composite-winona-ryder

5) What’s your current platform?

P: I am on a path to my own personal new reality, transporting myself in a creative writing vehicle that doesn’t always follow the road signs.

6) Pick what you perceive as the perfect ingredient for the best dessert: Pineapples or Peanut Butter.

P: Totally depends on the day as I love them both. Pineapples are awesome because they look really cool and they are the official fruit of Hawaii, or so I presume. And I really want Hubs and I to go there someday. And they are healthy (I did mention I may have ADHD right?). Probably even a superfood. Peanut butter is awesome because of the texture, plus it is a good source of protein. So it’s a total toss up.

Pineapple
See I told you it was a Hawaiian delicacy!

So here’s my plan: I’m going to rest on my laurels sipping a pina colada while beating my pretend pinata to death until it explodes with candy while you peruse this post and provide me with your perspectives. I’ll be as patient as I can be (which is not very).

Peace out Peeps!

P.S. Sorry I couldn’t resist. I had to persist.

Brought to you by the letter “P”

Disclaimer!!! I have not been diagnosed with multiple personality disorder (yet anyway). However, my alter ego, Pollyanna, has a variety of personas. Such as Pubescent Pollyanna, who is currently penning this post. Pubescent Polly has perhaps been unleashed as a result of my current life circumstances. Many of my days this summer have been reminiscent of a time, long long ago, when my pubescent self was home alone, listening to pop music on my boombox and writing pathetically putrid poems, songs, and plays. The grown up me, however, posits that life experiences, whether painful, parental, pleasing, peculiar or a partnership of two or more of them, have unveiled a plethora of personas in which I inhabit. And all of these personas I’m discovering are propelled by  Real Rhonda.

In addition to Pubescent Polly, there is:

Pokey Polly: She’s the one that takes 8 times longer to finish a meal than anyone else on the planet. Especially when eating pizza. Or Pie. Or Pineapples.

Peaceful Polly: She’s the one who just wants everyone to get along for Pete’s Sake! She strives to be mindful. She meditates daily. She protests peacefully for truth, justice, and human rights.

Passionate Pollyanna: She’s the one who is nuts about music. And food. Like peanut butter and pistachios. Peaches and pumpkin (though not together. She has no interest in being Pukey Polly). And she loves the color purple. And Hubs, her partner in life. And puppies.

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A pack of pretty, perky puppies!

 

Planner Pollyanna: This is the one who underneath it all, loves herself a party. Planning the party is a joy for her. She does her best to ponder who to invite, what they like to eat and drink, listen to and what games they might like to play.

Persnickety  Polly: She’s kind of a snarky bitch. She’s hard to please and may come off to some as a perfectionist. She doesn’t do a lot of blog posts.

Playful Pollyanna: She’s the one in control now. She is perpetually in cahoots with Pubescent Pollyanna. She likes to goof off a lot. She has more fun than any of the other personas.

Persistent Polly-She is particularly important. She perseveres people! She doesn’t give up no matter what. Even if people don’t like her pitiful blog.

Pondering Pollyanna: This persona is pensive. Perhaps a bit deep. She pens posts about personal observations about life and possibilities.

Pitiful Polly: Despite her white privilege, she finds things to whine about anyway. She is not allowed to pen any posts on Pollyanna’s Path.

Pissy Polly-She is the political one. She only posts when something in the political arena truly, positively, pisses her off. And she has potential solutions to whatever the problem is that has her so perturbed.

People Pleasing Polly: She is present in the vast majority of posts on this blog.  She prefers to hear positive commentary, but because she is able to partner with Peaceful Polly, she is very open to constructive criticism.

Then there are the personas of Pollyanna that no one will be reading because they suck, like Pretend Pollyanna, Preposterous Pollyanna, Petty Polly, Pretentious Pollyanna, Patronizing Pollyanna or Pessimistic Polly.

As Real Rhonda I hope in the future to present my precious followers with plenty of other personas, such as Progressive Polly, Promising Pollyanna, Proactive Polly, and Praiseful Pollyanna. Because Perfect Pollyanna doesn’t exist.

 

 

 

Fear

I’m a really good “chicken outer”. The first solid memory I have of allowing fear to control my actions was in about 5th grade. It happened in gym class. This was back in the day when all the kids had to wear, for lack of a better descriptor, a swimming “uniform” along with the dreaded skull cap to keep our hair out of our faces. Despite feeling horribly self conscious with my developing body and naked face, I absolutely loved this section of gym class because I was pretty good at swimming. I really enjoyed it, and still do. But diving into the pool….not so much.

I vividly recall the feeling of utter panic when our gym teacher, a short freckled woman somewhere in her 40’s (at the time she was probably only 30 something, but as a kid every adult seemed as if they were much older than they actually were), sharply ordered me to dive off the diving board into the pool. Standing there, freezing cold and dripping wet at the end of the diving board with my classmates looking on, I felt paralyzed. All I could envision was going in headfirst into the chilly water to my death. I was convinced that my head would hit the bottom of the pool and that would be that. Dead at age 11. So I chickened out. I instead went in feet first, plunging in, falling deeper into the water and frantically kicking my legs to propel my pubescent body to the surface. The sense of relief I felt was all encompassing. But shortly after, as I swam to the other end of the pool and hoisted myself up and out, I felt horribly ashamed and embarrassed about myself. Unfortunately, though I had multiple opportunities to attempt diving again throughout the rest of the swimming section of our gym class, I stuck with the chickening out method of jumping in feet first every single time. I’ve periodically wondered over the years how different my life would have been if I had had the guts to dive into that pool headfirst, for real.

Now, for those who know anything about my upbringing, it would be easy to conclude that as the youngest child (my next oldest sibling is 8 1/2 years older than me), whose father was always overly cautious in all things (true stories: growing up, I was not allowed to mow the lawn or ride my bike beyond the busiest main street of our town as dad deemed these activities to be too dangerous for me),  I was predisposed to chickening out when something scared me. While that may be true, I am now a grown woman of 50 with a husband, two kids and a grandson, so there is no point whatsoever in playing any sort of “blame game” here.  For all I know, my dad preventing me from participating in some activities could have saved me from serious injury or even death. His overly cautious nature was directly linked to the abundance of love he had for me. I totally get it.  However, in a lot of aspects of my life I remain a “chicken outer” (my refusal to drive in big city traffic is one prime example).

As a slightly neurotic, people pleasing overthinker, blogging brings up a boatload of fears for me, such as:

That I will inadvertently share something about someone in my life whom I care about that will cause them emotional harm and negatively impact the way they feel about me.

That I will express an opinion in a post that could be conceived as too controversial by some, causing others to shun me or harshly criticize me.

That I will come across as self-absorbed and share too much of my personal life, thereby embarrassing my family.

That I will simply run out of topics to blog about and fail miserably as a blogger.

I am quite certain I could sit here all day, tapping away on my keyboard as I come up with a million and eight reasons to be afraid of blogging with my authentic voice. But really, what a horrible waste of time that would be.

I’ve heard it said that people on their death beds often do not speak of regrets for those things they had done, but rather for those things in life they hadn’t done. This makes great sense to me. That is why I’m making the decision, right here and right now, to dive head first into blogging. At least I’m guaranteed to not hit my head on the bottom of the pool, right?