Thursday, 26 November 2009

Nightmare on Blog Street

I quite like blogging. No, really I do.

I enjoy the lively interraction with my fellow bloggers; I like the discipline of organising my chaotic days at home into nice neat posts; I love the free advice and recipes that I keep getting.

But there are times when it all goes sour; when the dream becomes a nightmare. Things can get a little out of hand. I was on holiday when a spat developed round the Indie's 50 Parent Bloggers feature; so many folks have wrung their hands about reviews (and you can read what I think here); and the Totties sorry Tots 100 index seems to be a special source of angst among almost everybody. And that's just in the daylight hours.

But what happens when you start to dream about your fellow bloggers? I don't know what Freud would have to say (and please don't tell me) but the other night I dreamt that an entire post (that must be the collective noun?) of bloggers had descended on our house, each armed with a lap-top (some of which had names!) and trailing family members after them like a cast of opera characters.

I'm not sure I'd invited any of them. But that didn't matter. They were sleeping on the floors and arguing about what we'd have for dinner. And they didn't show the slightest sign of wanting to move on. No. They were staying, stopping me from blogging and generally creating mayhem.

I'll not name names. But if you were tweeting between the hours of about ten in the evening on Monday and three a.m. on Tuesday morning, then you're probably in the frame. And you can forget all that 'repressed desire' and subliminal psycholanalytical stuff. I can explain. And it's perfectly simple. What happened was this. I woke at 3 o'clock. I reached for my iPod as a means on finding out the time. I couldn't get back to sleep. So I turned to Echofon and read some tweets before my head felt ready for the pillow. And somewhere, in the hours between five and six a.m. you all descended on me.

Of course, what I should've done was read Marsha Moore's book 24 Hours: London. Then I could have enjoyed vicariously whatever delights the capital had to offer so early the morning. That particular pleasure now goes to Claire Curran having won the signed copy of Marsha's book that I was giving away recently. Congratultions Claire! I could even have gone on to the panto site and started organising the family Christmas panto. (The deadline to win free tickets has been extended, btw. You've now got until the 14th December. Read all about it here, and then send your entry in asap!) But no, I read some tweets, then fell asleep, then had a dream.

Like I said, I won't name names. It would be invidious. But I will tell you this. Someone out there in blog-land has superhuman powers. They (not I) cleaned up the mess, settled all the arguments, got blog-posts posted, and returned the house to normal. (Someone eats a lot of take-out pizza...). They made sure that everybody's offspring got adequately fed and watered, entertained and educated, that the older children were all perfectly turned out for school, the shopping done, the ironing, even sewing. If my name were Joseph and I owned a fine and dandy coloured coat I might put money on this blogger suddenly becoming Prime Minister or World President or something. The more I think about it, the more I see the sense of this person being in pole position. They might not be number one at present in the Tots 100 index but they've clearly got their blogging head screwed on. And personally, I'd like to thank them, if they're reading.

Because without you, the whole dream thing would've been a nightmare.


22 comments:

  1. Time to turn off your tweeting/blogging in the middle of the night - either that or lay off the mushrooms before bedtime! hahahaa.

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  2. Hah, too funny. Can you imagine it for real? Total nightmare for me! However, my notebook DOES have a name. I've called it MoJo. So there.

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  3. I'm REALLY sorry for eating all that pizza. And for making Clive appear in your head.

    Intrigued as to who 'super blogger' is! Unless you're actually talking about yourself... hmmm...

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  4. Oh dear! Don't panic yet... it's when you dream that all the bloggers are sleeping on your floor, your teeth are falling out and you're running about naked that you'll really have a problem!

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  5. You're right Mal, it's the only way. And it wasn't mushrooms, it was cheese! Honest!

    That's appropriate, DJ. I like MoJo. Mine hasn't got a one, although I do call it quite a lot of rude names in the course of the day.

    So you should be, Josie. Honestly! And as for 'Super Blogger', well... it wasn't me is all I'm going to say. The clues are in the post, though! Wonder if anyone will work it out?

    Golly, TG, and I thought MY dream was bad enough.... Do you often dream things like that?

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  6. I thought I had strange dreams (when I actually manage to sleep).

    Intriguing!

    :)

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  7. I told the lot of them to clear up the mess but they wouldn't listen and left it all to me, as per usual I might add. I also told them to leave you some cash for all the pizza they ate (your fridge needs cleaning by the way) AND for the wine they drank. I told them they would have sore heads on the morning if they mixed it with your cider (which was room temperature, incidently) but no, I don't know why I bothered for all the effect it had. I'm talking to myself hald the time, it seems. We pushed a number of items under the rug in your living room, sorry about that. And I think I left my phone charger (we took advantage of your free electricity), could you bring it over? Ta.

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  8. It's Single Parent Dad isn't it? I knew you two were far too close for comfort . . .

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  9. Hee hee. This is great. I've also had blogging dreams a few times - the first one after the BMB meet-up at the Rainforest cafe. It's a very strange thing. Like the sound of yours though - sounds like you had a right old knees up!

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  10. No need to thank me. It's just what I do...

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  11. And that's when you know you need to step away from the computer!

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  12. Who is up at that time of the morning?! I'm intrigued as to who the super blogger is...don't keep us in suspense!!

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  13. THe oft-mentioned super-blogger. I wonder what their kryptonite is?

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  14. Spill on the superblogger, my addled brain can not make out the clues

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  15. Sorry to go back a few postas Tim, but for home-made, easy food for children, with no extra crap, I'd REALLY recommend Annabel Karmel. She makes her food Look like the food kids love, but packs in extra fruit and veg at every opportunity. Sam (and me) loves her "Hidden Veg Pasta Sauce" and has no idea that it contains five different vegetables.

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  16. your dreams rival mine - that is saying something.

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  17. I know the super-blogger wasn't me. I never do any tidying up if I can help it ...

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  18. Sighhhhh. My pleasure. And what a lovely dream. I wish I was that organised in real life young Tim. :D And love your dyson movie. Your wife is a babe. (I'm assuming that was your wife ;D)

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  19. 'ere! What you up to, dreaming about bloggers?

    If your coat tails are that long, you'll have a blogger hanging on to each one!

    'nough said!

    Love RMxx

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  20. That is classic! Having checked my hootsuite I clocked off at abou 2am... can't remember who was still on though!

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  21. I must have missed the spat over the Indie's top 50, what happened?

    And it's OK, i know you were dreaming about me. How do I know? Because I was dreaming about you....(sorry, I thought I was watching Flashforward there for a moment.)

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  22. Clearly I am very out of touch - love the lego shoes - wonder if I can buy them in size 2?
    Cheers

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