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Blogging in an Evening Gown

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Blogging on a WordPress site feels so formal. I have to put on a fancy dress to write, while on a Blogger blog, I just throw on a pair of jeans.

Excuse me as I readjust my push-up bra. Better, but my Spanx is so constricting, I can hardly think or breathe, though my posture has improved. Still, I'd rather be in jeans blogging on Blogger.

Every time the chair rolls, I snag the hem of my dress. And don't get me started about the Tiara on my head. The reflection of the diamonds on the screen is blinding.

Damn, I wish I had my sunglasses. But they didn't fit in my tiny evening bag, which is only big enough to hold a contact lens. Have you ever tried looking for a contact lens in a purse? I still haven't found the one I lost in 2005.

Yes, the world can do fine without design-flawed evening bags. They're not even bags! A real bag can fit a lot of things, like groceries, in fact. Have you ever tried stuffing a banana into an evening bag?

Life is tough when you're all gussied up -- worried about makeup smearing, stockings ripping or holding it in until your bladder explodes. Not the image you want to see at a benefit for kidney stones.

Forget about writing. I can hardly type with all the heavy rings weighing down my fingers. And when I'm finally able to hammer out a word, I can't read it anyway.

The glare of the hot Sahara screen hurts my eyes and parches my lips. Water. I need water. Wait! I see a lake on my desktop. Stupid mirage. Oh, it's a picture from my last vacation, kayaking on Lake Joseph. If I had worn heels, I would have likely sunk the boat.

Teetering on spiked heels, while leaning forward in my seat, is a difficult feat for my feet. They have trouble enough walking in flats, avoiding potential hazards: door saddles, floorboards and dustballs -- always knock me on my ass.

No, I'm staying right where I am, with my butt cheeks smack against the seat. At least I know it's safe here... unless I sneeze and twist an ankle. I bet you didn't know that wayward dustballs could end up in your nose.

I never realized how dangerous it could be to write. But that's only if you write in swanky evening clothes. It's not a healthy or productive way to crank out a post, if you're lucky enough to lift an arm to crank at all. Remember the shiny anchors on my fingers?

I miss the dress-down days of Blogger -- blogging was simple then, sitting all comfy in my jeans. I didn't worry about breaking my blog like I do now.

In the past few years, I've lost a footer, changed the permalink structure and accidentally misplaced my widgets. They weren't in the refrigerator where I usually leave my keys.

On Blogger, I never worried about Google having a hissy fit and punishing me whenever things went amiss on my blog.

I'm too old for a timeout.

How can I get back that Zen Blogger attitude while distracted by shiny WordPress glitz?

Maybe my problem can be attributed to what shrinks call "transference" (blaming WordPress for all those times I couldn't write) is hindering my creativity. Maybe I can kick off these heels and still write on a fancy site. Otherwise, I'm going to pass out because my Spanx is too tight.

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