My entry into the Whrrl contest. You like? Go vote here.
It’s hard to describe just how famous I’ve become since I started to blog. First, like most artists of any note, I toiled in years of obscurity. There were the lonely days of 2003 when no one but my mother in law and at least one of her friends read my blog. However, much like Van Gogh moved to Arles, I moved to Blogger in 2005. Finally, a community of artists whose chosen medium, the blog, evolved into the extraordinary art form it truly is. How else can you explain a blog that starts like this: “Hey guys! Sorry I haven’t blogged lately but I’ve been SO BUSY!” Striking, isn’t it?
A couple years ago I was at a park for my parent’s church picnic. There I was, helping my child get a drink from a fountain when a woman walked up to me. “Hey, you look like a girl on the Internet.”
“Oh?,” I responded.
“Yes! Wait, you write The Jet Set! You’re Azúcar, aren’t you?”
I smiled and confirmed her suspicions. Look, sometimes celebrities are just like you and me. Well, like you and you. We take our kids to the park. We wear overly elaborate clothing in everyday life. We’re spotted eating potato salad, or imported chocolates and boutique baguettes. Is it trying to know that I’ll always have the public watching? Absolutely, but it’s my duty to be kind and slightly aloof. What can I say? I’m a role model.
We moved recently, and I found that like all famous people, I reaped the rewards of notoriety. One of our two moving men took a smoke break (after moving our opulent Serta mattress) and when he was finished, he only threw one cigarette butt onto my front porch. I bet if I wasn’t a blogging celebrity it might have been double or triple that amount! I know most people can’t ask for that kind of attention, but yet, it’s afforded to me just because of my writing. I almost feel guilty.
My husband insists that blogging is nothing more than high school in digital form. All celebrities have their tabloid nemesis, and J’s constant rejoinders of the medium are exactly what Kate Gosselin has to go through with US Weekly. Is it difficult? Of course, but if you’re going to take the good (cigarette butt) you have to accept the bad (gleeful contempt.) It’s a package deal, folks!
There are the other downsides to blogging celebrity. I am photographed in my car, whether I like it or not. I have to pretend I am listening to NPR instead of Fergie (see: role model.) It can be so taxing.
And, like every entitled child of a star, my children haven’t been able to reconcile their famous mother with their own identity. How else can you explain their propensity to trash their rooms?
Broken glass door on the entertainment center.
Parmesan cheese, chocolate syrup, lemon juice
As with most celebrities, I’m going to play off my children’s obvious shortcomings as merely the expression of an artistic mind. Basquiats for the Internet age.
There’s so much that my blog has brought into my existence: friends, enemies, and an obsessive relationship with Google Analytics, or how one time when I went out to Carrabba’s the server gave me a free drink, that sometimes I forget the little straining reminders of my celebrity. For example, having to wear sunglasses at Costco to cut down on admirers, or how the neighborhood children prefer my granola bars over everyone else’s; it's a blessing and a curse.
I simply document my life, well, my complicated, extraordinary, bon vivant yet humble and sincere life for the whole world to read and cherish. I truly am no different than the non-blogging plebian masses...
Only a lot better.